How to Write a Harry Potter Fanfic
by Elly And The Gundam Wing Fan
Summary: Hermione teaches budding authors how to write good Harry Potter fiction... at least she would be if Ron wasn't helping out. Can it be? Yes! Chapter 9 AND 10 are here!
1. Lesson 1 The Plot

Disclaimer: Don't own it.  Don't claim to.  Don't plan to.  Don't sue.  Also, I have no idea why I'm writing this, and am not really too sure why you're reading it, either.  I mean, if you're reading this, then what?  Did I actually post it, or is someone sneaking around in my folder?  Are you _really_ reading this?!

How to Write a Harry Potter Fanfic  (And How Not To!)

By the following experts:

Elly (Who's never written a Harry Potter Fanfic before so that must make her the leading authority, huh?)

And

The Gundam Wing Fan (Who's never even read _one_ of the books.)

            Ahem.  Hello, hello.  I suppose we've established in the disclaimer that you _are_ in fact reading this, so I can assume someone's actually paying attention to this lecture?  Or are you the type that skips over the disclaimers because they're all the same?  Seriously, you should always read things very carefully, you never know when there might be a quiz, or exam!

            By the way, my name's Hermione Granger, and I'm here today to give you some tips and tricks for writing Harry Potter fanfiction.  Oh, it wasn't _my_ idea!  I wanted to study my Transfiguration lesson, but Elly's being _so_ pushy!  Apparently, she hasn't the faintest idea where to begin, and since she got writer's block _right_ at the end of her Lord of the Rings fic, she figured it'd be best to let someone a little more… attentive… carry on the writing work.

            Anyway, let's get straight to it then?  There are a dozen books in the library I'm putting off for this, so I want to get it over with.

**Lesson 1: The Plot (Or Not)**

Hermione:  All right.  If you're seriously interested in writing Harry Potter fanfiction, then you've probably read some, if not all of the books, right?  Perhaps, if you were properly taking notes, and cross-referencing facts, you'll have noticed that the plots are fairly complex, and hard to predict.  It would be a daunting task if I asked you to emulate J.K. Rowlings' style exactly since you're just beginning, so I'll save that for a final exam.  For now, we'll just focus on _having_ a plot, all right?  Elly and the GWFan are guilty of writing pointless fics, but I am _not_ abandoning my Charms homework just to watch them turn out another one of… _those_!

            There is really an abundance of possible plot ideas that would be acceptable for a fanfic.  Although many of you might argue that this is a relaxed, informal style of writing, you'd better keep on your toes, because there'll be a test!  Where was I?  Ah yes, it's not really too hard to find a good plot.  Let me pick something that I can use as an example… ah.  Let's send the fifth year students on a fieldtrip to muggle inhabited London.  Simple enough.

            Now I suppose the trick is to make the story interesting.  Let's start by making some charts, and organizing out plot notes… I think a thousand-word summary is a good start to get a feel for what kind of direction-

            Ron:  What do you think you're _doing_!?

            Hermione:  Huh?  What are you doing here?  Elly asked me to give a little introduction to writing Harry Potter fics properly.

            Ron:  _Little?_  You call a thousand-word summary _little_?

            Hermione:  I call it the difference between quality and… well… one of Elly and The Gundam Wing Fan's fics.  What do you know, anyway?  Now just be quiet so I can finish!

            Ahem… once you've got your charts and everything worked out, then you're ready to go on to the next step!  Now you need to write a scene-by-scene diagram of your character developments, clues, red herrings, and-

            Ron:  Do they ever get to do any actual _writing_?

            Hermione:  I'm getting there!  Stop interrupting!  _Anyway_, once you've got all your outlines figured out, you can start doing some tasteful editing to weed out unnecessary scenes, characters, side stories-

            Ron:  _Or_, you could just pick up your quill and start writing the story.

            Hermione:  They're muggles, Ron, they're using pencils and computers.

            Ron:  All the same, they could start writing now, couldn't they?

            Hermione:  No.  There are still three more steps before the actual words-to-parchment process!

            Ron:  Forget _that_!  You're getting as long winded as Professor Binns!  _My_ suggestion is to just start… toping?  Is it toping?

            Hermione:  It's called _typing_.  Haven't you been paying any attention in Muggle Studies?  _I'm_ supposed to be teaching this lesson, so would you please go away now?

            Ron:  No!  I have good ideas for writing this fic, too!

            Hermione:  (sighs)  Fine.  Go ahead and give the budding writers out there an example of what _not_ to do.

            Ron:  Fine!  Here we go, then:

            Once upon a time…

            Hermione:  Once upon a time?  Are you serious?

            Ron:  What's wrong with that?

            Hermione:  It's just so… unoriginal!

            Ron:  Well, what do _you_ suggest?

            Hermione:  _Anything_ else!  How about:

            Hundreds of unassuming pedestrians passed by it each day, without guessing what its true use was.  They were typically too involved in the shopping opportunities that district of London offered.  Even if the residents happened to hear it being called a portkey, they wouldn't have thought anything of it, and would have doubtlessly forgot all about it by the end of the day.

            Ron:  What in the bloody hell does that have to do with Harry?

            Hermione:  I'm setting my story up _properly_!  Or did you forget that I intended to send the Hogwarts students to London for a fieldtrip?

            Ron:  Then why don't you just say:

            Dumbledore informed the students one morning during breakfast, that they would be taking a fieldtrip to London, since he thought learning about muggles was a valuable experience for any witch or wizard.

            Hermione:  Well, you _could_, but where's the artistic flair?  You would totally get low marks with that kind of lazy writing!

            Ron:  (miffed)  It's not lazy; it's to the point.

            Hermione:  Well, I like _mine_.  But since my next scene was going to be at Hogwarts anyway, I'll pick up where you left off:

            The class tables broke into excited chatter, some highly approving of the trip, and others unimpressed with the idea.

            Sitting cheerfully at the Gryffindor table were two fifth years: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.  They looked at each other.

            "Is this really a good idea?" Hermione put her fork down.  "What with the rise of You-Know-Who and everything?  Isn't Hogwarts the safest place for us to stay?"

            Harry didn't look as worried.  "We can't just hide, you know.  Besides, it could be a lot of fun!"

            "You're probably right." Hermione agreed.  "But I have a bad feeling."

            "Don't worry!  We'll stick together in London, alright?"

            Ron:  What _is_ this?  Where am _I_?

            Hermione:  What do you mean?  You're standing right next to me.

            Ron:  No, I mean where am I in the _story_?  Why am I not sitting with you and Harry?

            Hermione:  (blush)  Oh.

            Ron:  Well, that was a pretty lame beginning anyway.  What this story needs is to start off with a bang:

            "Yeah, you should stick real close to Granger, Potter!" Malfoy taunted from the Slytherin table.  "She should know every dirty gutter in London, what with _her_ breeding!"

            "Oh yeah!?" Ron Weasley leapt to his feet, brandishing his wand and called out, "Plodari!"

            Malfoy's breakfast instantly exploded, spattering bacon grease all over his face.

            "Ha ha!" Ron was triumphant.

            Hermione:  The teachers would never let you do that!

            Ron:  Maybe not, but this is just a fanfic.  And that was pretty cool, wasn't it?

            Hermione:  It's not realistic!  You're putting all my notes to waste if you're just going to improvise with stuff like that.

            Ron:  (grumbling)  No appreciation.  Go ahead then, _you_ do it.

            Hermione: So anyway:

            "As all the students are well aware," Dumbledore's eyes shone brightly.  "It is one of the primary responsibilities of any wizard or witch to conceal their magic from non-magical persons.  I hope to see you all on your best behavior while on the fieldtrip."

            "Still," Hermione persisted quietly, so only Harry and Ron (who as a matter of fact was sitting with them) could hear.  "It's such short notice for a fieldtrip.  And _all_ of the students are going?  Doesn't it seem odd to you guys?"

            "What's the big deal?" Ron shrugged her concern off, his mouth stuffed with eggs.

            She glared.  "It seems to _me_ that they're trying to evacuate Hogwarts for some reason.  Anyway, _I'm_ off to the library… and don't talk with your mouth full!"

            "Bye," Ron tried to stuff more egg into his mouth, but to no avail.

            Ron:  Why are you making me be an idiot?  I sound like Harry's cousin!

            Hermione:  I didn't think you sounded any different than usual.

            Ron:  Oh really:

            As she strutted off, Hermione suddenly fell face first onto the floor of the Great Hall… _right_ in front of the Slytherin table.  They all pointed at her and laughed, and Malfoy had somehow managed to step on her crazy, frizzy, rat's nest of hair.

            "Let go!" Hermione yelped as she felt her hair being pulled.

            Ron:  So there.

            Hermione:  (enraged)  _You_!  I didn't do anything like that to _you_!

            Ron:  I'm just kidding.  Here, I'll get you out of it:

            "Plodari!" Ron (who was absolutely _not_ stuffing his face, and never has) pointed his wand and cast a quick spell.

            Malfoy's breakfast instantly exploded and bacon grease splattered all over his face... again.  In the confusion, he stepped off of Hermione's perfectly acceptable hair.

            Ron:  Happy?

            Hermione:  No.  This has got to be the most disjointed fic ever written.

            Ron:  I don't see what's wrong with it!  In fact, I kind of like it!

            Hermione:  Only because _I_ am currently face down on the floor in front of the Slytherin's table, even though I wouldn't even walk _by_ there if I were going to the library.

            Ron:  Well, get yourself _up_ then.

            Hermione:  Oh, all ri… who are you?

            The Authoress of Unoriginality:  Hi!  Are you guys writing fanfiction?  I'm an author too, so I thought I might just see what you were writing!

            Ron:  (thinks of the story-Hermione on the floor)  It's kind of personal right now.  Now's not a good ti-

            Unoriginality:  (reads)  Oh, how cute!  I know just what to do next:

            Hermyonee got p fron the flor and looks embarrassed.  She suddenly notived the mes that Ronn has made and feeled a sterange since of pitty.  "Here." She sed considerratly, handing a pocket kechief to Mallfoi timidlee.  "Cleen yeorself up.  I'm is sorry my former freinf Ronn didd that."  It was then that Hermioone relyzed that she were in luv.

            Hermione & Ron:  WHAT!?

            Unoriginality:  What?  Wasn't this going to be a DxHr story?

            Hermione:  Absolutely, _not_!

            Ron:  Are you crazy?  Hermione and… (thinks) ew!

            Unoriginality:  What pairing is it, then?

            Hermione:  (strikes forehead)  I forgot… it's almost _unthinkable_ for an author to write a Harry Potter story without favoring some pairing these days!

            Ron:  Okay, but still.  Who would pair Malfoy with anybody?  It's just not entertainment!

            Unoriginality:  Just because _you_ don't like it!  (sobs)

            Hermione:  Well, off you go, Unoriginality.  I need to prepare for my next lesson.

            Unoriginality:  (leaves, offended)


	2. Lesson 2 The Pairings

**Lesson 2: The Pairings (If You MUST Set 'Em Up, Set 'Em Up With Style!)**

            Hermione:  Well, uninspiring as Miss Unoriginality's _grammar_ was, she still reminded me that the pairings are a very important aspect of these fanfics.  Although I don't really approve a bunch of crazed authors pairing me up with anything that moves, I guess there's still a right way and a wrong way to go about this.

            Ron:  (still in shock at Unoriginality's composition)  I mean… they don't even _kinda_ like each other!  It's unthinkable!

            Hermione:  There, there, Ron.  I'm offended, too.  But the real offense would have to be in Unoriginality's _delivery_ of the romance, and not so much the pairing itself.

            Ron:  What are you saying?  That could _never_ be acceptable!

            Hermione:  But for the sake of this lesson, I have to admit, that given the proper amount of subtlety and planning, you can pull off just about any pairing.  So long as the readers feel it came about in a natural way, that is.  Unoriginality's 'She suddenly realized she was in love' just doesn't cut it.

            Ron:  _Hermione_!  It's _impossible_!  Draco Malfoy is _evil_!

            Hermione:  I agree.  But if the author were to manipulate the audience into _believing_ that I was evil, too, couldn't it work then?  There are infinite means to persuade readers; so long as you're patient enough to establish the necessary plot developments.

            Ron:  You've gone all loony!

            Hermione:  Just for the fic's sake, Ron!  Let's show writers how to properly pull off an unusual pairing.

            Ron:  Oh, the _horror_!

            Hermione:  Why are you so upset?  It's just a fanfic, isn't it?

            Ron:  In the words of my favorite bookworm, "It's not realistic!"

            Hermione:  That's the challenge of it:

            Hermione struggled to her feet awkwardly, glaring at Malfoy.  "Serves you right." She gestured to the mess of a breakfast.  "You just leave me alone!"

            "Well, what do you think you're doing, walking over here when the library is _that_ way?  Dirty blood going to your brain?" Malfoy growled, stealing Crabbe's napkin.

            "I can walk wherever I please!" Hermione stormed out of the Hall, an obvious shoe mark in her hair (the shoeprint was bad, but she was starting to get tired of everyone making fun of her hair in general).

            Ron:  Okay… that wasn't so bad after all.

            Hermione:  Well, that's just because I need to set up a relationship between the two before I do anything extreme like Unoriginality did.

            Ron:  A _relationship_!?  Please tell me you're kidding.

            Hermione:  I'm only giving examples for authors to follow.  What would they learn if I presented them with an easy-to-write pairing?

            Ron:  And what would that be?

            Hermione:  (turning pink)  I don't know… me and Harry?

            Ron:  (fuming)  You make it sound like that's the obvious way to go?!

            Hermione:  Stop taking everything so personally.  We could pair you up with Fleur!

            Ron:  Why would she be at Hogwarts during our fifth year?

            Hermione:  Well, what do you want to do then?

            Ron:  Er… cast some more spells on Malfoy?

            Hermione:  (groans)  Let me go ahead and develop a relationship hook:

            Hermione stormed into the library, holding one hand to her disfigured hair.  She didn't feel like crying right now, but rather fix her recently damaged appearance.

            "There must be a spell in here to neaten up unruly hair," She sighed as she started skimming over all-too-familiar tomes.

            She glanced over some complicated Transfiguration spells that were beyond her skill level.  They still hadn't learned how to Transfigure people yet.  But still, how hard could it be?  Hermione had once seen Angelina cast a pair of Transfigured eyelashes without any hiccup whatsoever.  And Angelina wasn't even _that_ good in her Transfiguration classes.

            Here was an interesting listing on a loose, tattered page: Long, Lovely, Luscious Locks.  The description was faded with age, but Hermione managed to make out a few letters.  It seemed to say something about making one's head 'shine with magnificence.'  That was her best guess; anyway; many of the characters were illegible.

            "Here goes nothing." She sighed, and pointed the wand at her own skull.  "Reallo Lustori!"

            To Hermione's amazement, she felt the frizzes in her hair come undone and relax in straight lengths down her back.  The scuffmark was gone, she noted, as she admired her hair in the mirror.  It wasn't a huge improvement, per se, but it was a new look.  She tossed her new hair over her shoulder and left for her dorms in order to pack for the fieldtrip.

            Ron:  I don't see what that has to do with that… disgusting pairing.

            Hermione:  (impatient)  Oh, don't you see?  The description didn't read, 'shine with magnificence!'  It really said 'shine with malignance,' but I couldn't tell!

            Ron:  Well, if you couldn't tell than what good is putting it in the story?

            Hermione:  (disappointed)  Do I have to spell it out?  I cast a curse on myself, so I'm evil now!

            Ron:  Evil?!

            Hermione:  Well not completely evil.  The curse just gives me some evil tendencies, and didn't you notice the second word of the incantation was 'Lustori?'

            Ron:  So what?

            Hermione:  Well, I _thought_ it alluded to lustrous hair, but it really refers to the lust for evil that the curse plants within its victim's _head_!  Oh, you don't think it's too obvious?  You don't think the readers would figure it out right away, do you?

            Ron:  (looks tired)  Why do you want yourself to be evil, Hermione?

            Hermione:  So I can fall for Draco!  (looks pleased)

            Ron:  (looks sick and tired)  Why can't we just forget about that?

            Hermione:  Because it's _part_ of writing a fanfic, and I want to do it _right_!

            Ron:  Couldn't you please fall for someone else?

            Hermione:  It's too late.  I've figured this all out already.  Besides, it's just pretend.  What difference does it make?

            Ron:  Fine, if you're going to be so stubborn:

            The almighty Ron Weasley snuck into the Slytherin common room that night and kidnapped the offensive creep Malfoy.  He didn't like the way Hermione had been acting lately, so he stuffed Malfoy in an anonymous dungeon where he'd be out of sight, and miss the fieldtrip.

            Hermione:  Oh _sure_.  You just kidnapped him, easy as that.

            Ron:  I can't let him corrupt your little cursed head.

            Hermione:  In the story, you don't _know_ I'm cursed!  Nobody does!  Not even me!

            Ron:  True.  But since when did I need a reason to stuff Draco Malfoy in an anonymous dungeon?

            Hermione:  Put him back, Ron!  It ruins the story!

            Ron:  You're really turning loony:

            For some unknown reason, the almighty Ron Weasley returned his rival to the Slytherin common room and placed a memory charm he had learned from Gilderoy Lockheart on him so he wouldn't remember anything.

            He then returned to his own common room so he could spend the whole rest of the night glaring evilly at Hermione Granger who looked very different than that morning.

            Hermione:  Speaking of which, what happened to that afternoon?  That's sloppy writing:

            The entire afternoon, Hermione had been packing, strangely obsessing over what to take, and terribly distressed that she didn't have anything to wear in London that was more form fitting.

            Ron:  Why do you want that?

            Hermione:  I'm evil now.

            Ron:  So evil girls like to walk around London in slinky clothes, then?

            Hermione:  I'm just trying to leave some clues to the readers that all is not right!  It's unfair if I don't give them a chance to figure it out.

            Ron:  (disapproving)  I think you can be just as evil in plain old robes as out of them.

            Hermione:  (angry)  And how would you know _what_ I can be 'out of robes?'

            Ron:  That's not what I meant!  But do whatever you want; it's your story.

            Hermione:  Well, _unfortunately_ you've taken over part of it, too.  You can write next.

            Ron:  Fine:

            The next day, they gathered around special portkeys that had been brought to Hogwarts specifically for the fieldtrip.  They were all standing outside the grounds, since magical transporting was ineffective within the school.  The next key available was cleverly disguised as a fire hydrant.

            "Don't shove now," Hagrid herded the students.  He was one of the guardians that would be attending the trip.  "Just a couple 'o students per key.  Don' wanter surprise the muggles with too big a crowd."

            Harry and Ron approached the key excitedly, chatting about London and how it differed from the magic world.

            "Coming, Hermione?" Harry turned to her.

            "Hm?" She replied, distractedly stroking her straight hair.  "Oh, no.  I'll just catch the next one."

            "But we were going to stick together in London, remember?  We don't want to get separated right away!" Harry reasoned good-naturedly.

            "Go on, Harry." Hermione returned roughly.  "Stop being a baby!  It's not dangerous out there."

            "Wrong side of the bed?" Ron shrugged and took hold of the fire hydrant with Harry.  "Seriously, women are so moody!"

            They disappeared from Hogwarts.

            Ron:  I am _not_ doing the next part.

            Hermione:  Why?  How do you know what happens next?

            Ron:  It's obvious!  Why else would you stay behind?

            Hermione:  Excuse me, but _you_ were the ones that left me behind!  You wrote it, anyway!

            Ron:  I'm just trying to keep you in character.

            Hermione:  Well if you're too scared:

            "What happened to _this_?" Malfoy pulled on Hermione's hair much harder than was necessary and then looked like he regretted it.  He wiped his hand on his robes in disgust.  "I've got to wash my hands now… mudblood hair, yech."

            Hermione put a hand on her scalp defensively.  "I had to get your footprints out!" She narrowed her eyes.  "You're not the only one who needs to wash."

            "There now," Hagrid said firmly.  "Leave 'er alone, Malfoy.  You four get the next portkey… sorry but it's a rotten salami."

            Hermione, Draco, Parvati Patil, and Goyle took the key to London.

            Hermione:  (relieved)  There!  They're finally there.

            Ron:  (gloomy)  I don't like where this is going.  This isn't a Harry fic at all!  It's all about you.

            Hermione:  All about _me_?  I wasn't the one who's already cast two exploding spells, _and_ kidnapped someone, _and_ put them back!  Seems to me _you're_ in the spotlight.

            Ron:  Oh no… she's back.

            Unoriginality:  I overheard!  You took my advice!  I knew it was a good idea.

            Hermione:  Actually, Unoriginality, I'm conducting lessons here so any example will do.

            Unoriginality:  Oh, then let me:

            Her naim wuz Medina Crystal Meridian, and she wuz the mostest bootiflu girl whom ever wennt too Hogworts.  She wuz, off corse, a Griffindoor, and she always gets gud grayds.  Evereebodi luved her, becuz she wuz the mist pretties girl.  She hadd secrets, tho, and she never lyyked too tel anibodi that she wzu seacretly Yoo-Kno-Hoo's long losted niece, becuz she thot then nowun wud lyk her anymore, and that althoo she wuz the monst gorjos girl in the hole skooll, she wood bee lonely if the trooth getted out.

            Hermione:  (makes fingers into a cross)  _Major_ run-on sentence, there!

            Ron:  Was that… (gulps) what I thought it was?  Was that your typical introduction for a Mary Sue?

            Hermione:  (sighs)  I'm afraid so.

            Unoriginality:  What are you talking about?  Her name is Medina Meridian, not Mary Sue.

            Ron:  Oh, trust me.  She's a Mary Sue.  You can spot them a mile away.  They're all the same.

            Unoriginality:  No, this girl's different!  She's a great character!

            Hermione:  And _why_ is she so great?

            Unoriginality:  Because she has knee-length, honey colored hair with ruby-red streaks!  And because her eyes are the biggest, most beautiful foamy-blue color anybody's ever seen!  Because she has the world's most perfect figure, even though she eats nothing but pizza and the candy her admirers give her by the pound!

            Hermione:  Uh-_huh_.  So according to you, describing the color of her hair and eyes, and giving out her measurements makes her a great character?

            Unoriginality:  Uh… yeah… she's so sweet, and everybody loves her!

            Ron:  But what's she _like_?

            Unoriginality:  Well, she has knee-length, honey colored hair, with ruby-red strea-

            Ron:  Yes, yes.  We've got that.  But what is she _like_!?

            Unoriginality:  Well, she's the best student at school and everybody lov-

            Ron:  (losing control)  What is the _stupid_ girl, actually _like_!?!

            Unoriginality:  I'm… not sure what you mean.

            Hermione:  Of course you don't, Miss Unoriginality.  You just run along now, and I'll straighten everything out.

            Unoriginality:  (leaves, mystified)

Elly: Stay tuned!  If this gets a good response, I might just tear my attention away from finals and post lesson 3 (about Mary Sues) next weekend.  Thanks for reading, everybody!


	3. Lesson 3 The Mary Sues

Lesson 3: Mary Sues (And the Eternal Battle We All Fight Against Them) 

            Hermione:  All right, all you writers.  Here is another, all too common pitfall that fanfictionalists fall into.  You see, there is a group out there (mostly consisting of young girls), that seems to get their thrills out of converting their wild fantasies into Mary Sue stories.

            That is, when you see the dreaded 'Mary Sue introduction' pop-up in a fic, this is probably how the author wishes she looked.  'Long, flowing, black hair,' or 'stunning, deep hazel eyes' is really just the author inserting _herself_ into the plot, conveniently in the most perfect body there ever was.

            Ron:  And then, remarkably, all the _real_ characters fall in love with her!

            Hermione:  That's right.  Pure fantasy, I'm afraid.  There is an antithesis to the Mary Sue, formula of course, and that's called a 'new character.'

            Now, there is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with devising a new character (this is fanfiction, after all), but keep it under control… _please_.  There have simply been _too_ many sightings of Harry Potter's long-lost sister, Porcelain Potter, for anybody's health.

            Ron:  (snickers)  I'll fix it.  There's no reason Medina can't be in our story, but I'm going to cure her Mary Sue Flu, first:

            "Oh no… it's _her_," Parvati groaned under her breath.  "I hope she's not assigned to _me_!"

            "Who?" Ron glanced around the London landscape, looking for something distasteful.

            "Medina Meridian," Lavender pointed, and spoke the awkward girl's name with a mocking tone.  "She's such a klutz!"

            "And," Parvati spoke to Ron conspiratorially.  "She's muggle-born, so she'll be expected to 'help' one of the magic-born out.  Please don't let it be me!"

            At this point, Medina was studying the foggy sky that the students were walking under.  She suddenly took a false step, and grabbed Harry, taking him to the pavement with her.

            Lavender winced.  "She's a new Hufflepuff transferring from another school for her last three years.  Going to be a long three years for the Hufflepuffs."

            Harry got to his feet, and helped the sprawled Meridian to hers.

            "Ah," She blinked quickly, looking at Harry.  "It seems… it seems… it seems I've gone and gotten your spectacles fractured."

            "What?" Harry stared back at her freckly face.

            "It's your _spectacles_." She repeated, accidentally dropping her suitcase on Neville's passing feet.  "That is to say, your glasses are broken!  So sorry, Harry."

            Harry smiled nervously as the suitcase toppled to its side, burst open, and sent Medina's clumsily packed items flying everywhere.  "It's okay, really.  I've got a friend who's good at this kind of thing." He took the opportunity to escape from Medina, and rejoin Ron.  "Speaking of which, have you _seen_ Hermione?"

            Ron glanced around.  The group was numbered in the hundreds, since every student in the school was there.  "She must be around somewhere.  I'm guessing she took the next portkey after ours."

            "So she should be close," Harry wished he were a little taller, as he tried to get a glimpse of his missing friend.  "Hermione?  Hermione!"

            "Yes?" Came a slightly annoyed voice from the crowd.

            "Hermione!" Ron called, we're over here!"

            She appeared from a clot of Ravenclaws, twirling her hair idly.  "What do you want?"

            "It's just my glasses again," Harry explained, removing them from his face.  "Had a bit of an accident."

            She looked at them and continued to twirl her hair.  "And?"

            Harry fumbled.  "Er… I figured you might fix them for me again?"

            "Harry Potter," Hermione shook her head.  "_How_ many times have I done that for you already?  Shouldn't you take the time to memorize the spell, instead of wasting mine all the time?"

            "Er…" Harry replaced the broken glasses.

            "What is the _matter_ with you today?" Ron said disapprovingly.  "You're acting like… Pansy!"

            Hermione seemed shocked back to normality.  Her fingers abandoned her hair, and her face looked blank.  "I'm… I'm sorry." She snatched Harry's glasses.  "Don't know what got into me.  Of _course_ I'll fix them!"

            Hermione could hardly hear herself speak the repairing incantation when Medina tripped again, causing an embarrassed pile of first years to topple over her.

            Hermione:  (amused)  Yes, she's _much_ improved.  Bravo, Ron.

            Ron:  Thanks!  Doesn't look like a Mary Sue anymore!

            Hermione:  Yes.  Really, good job.  But what was that business about muggle-born helping out the magic-born?

            Ron:  Oh, that was just a little brilliant idea of mine!  Who better than the muggle-born to give practical advise about the homework packages?

            Hermione:  _What_ homework packages?  Why are you making up plot devises without consulting me?

            Ron:  It's all right!  I think you'll like this:

            "I still think it's unfair," Harry grinned thankfully as he accepted his renewed glasses.  "That the first, second, and third years get to go to an amusement park for their assignment."

            Ron looked like he agreed.  "Honestly!  They've been bragging about the Colossus Cruiser ever since they found out!"

            "Colossus Cruiser?" Hermione said.

            "Oh, it's this roller coaster.  Supposed to be a real thrill ride!"

            Hermione looked unimpressed.  "Is that _all_?  In that case, I think we got the good assignment.  I'm looking forward to doing our in-depth research!  I hope I get to do muggle economics!"

            "Economics?" Harry laughed.  "Well, I hope I get to do something a little more interesting.  Maybe muggle vehicles?"

            "Who cares _what_ subject you got if you have Medina Meridian as your study partner?" Ron piped in.

            "Well _we_ wouldn't," Hermione lectured.  "Harry and I count as muggle-born, so we'll get partners from wizarding families."

            "For once, _I'll_ be the expert!" Harry exclaimed.  "I spent eleven whole years living in the muggle world, so this assignment won't be too bad.  Still not as good as the theme park, though."

            "All righ,' here's where we split up," Hagrid announced, his booming voice drowning out all of the students' conversations.  "Third years an' below go on with Professor Sprout, now, an' the res' come with me."

            Ron scowled as the younger kids trotted off with Professor Sprout.  He could have sworn they all just screamed, "Colossus Cruiser, here we come!"

            Hermione:  So who's going to get Medina as a partner then?

            Ron:  Parvati.  I'm just shoving her off to the sideline.  Too much time in the spotlight, and she could _still_ turn into a strange breed of Mary Sue.

            Hermione:  That's probably wise.  I think I see where you're going with this now, so let me give it a turn:

            "Now I jus' want ter make sure tha' everyone knows the plan," Hagrid spoke after Professor Sprout's group had left.  "We're all stayin' in a muggle inn, but the rooms are enchanted, so there'll be enough room fer everybody." He leered at a few boys who weren't paying attention.  "I don' want ter see _anybody_ accidentally letting on who we are, or why we're here.  You got that?"

            A chorus of, "Yes, Hagrid," resounded and they continued marching on to the hotel.

            To everyone's delight, (except perhaps for the inn's manager, who was _very_ confused), there was plenty of room for everybody, even though they only rented five rooms.  One for each house of students, and one for Hagrid, whose suite doubled as a common meeting room.  They were directed to unpack their things into their temporary living spaces (which looked mysteriously like their dorms back at Hogwarts), and then to meet in the common suite for their homework.

            "Well," Harry said as he unpacked some sweaters that would help him look 'less magical' than his school robes  "I suppose the sooner we get this assignment over with, the sooner we can enjoy this trip as a sort of holiday."

            "Hey, Harry?" Ron wondered.  "Do you think they'd let us go ride the Colossus Cruiser if we get done in time?  And had enough muggle money, of course."

            Harry shrugged.  "Well if anybody would let us, it'd be Hagrid.  Let's go ask him!"

            They proceeded to Hagrid's suite, careful not to let any muggles see how impossibly large the interiors of their rooms looked.  There were already many students crowding their way down the halls.

            "Ah, there ya are!" Hagrid welcomed them.  "Jus' startin' to assign partners fer the assignments."

            "Hey, Hagrid?" Ron looked hopeful.  "When we're done with our work, could me and Harry go to the theme park?"

            "Don' see why not, so long as ya keep outta trouble.  Be a good experience, prolly." He replied.

            "Yes!" Ron shouted.

            "Glad yer so enthusiastic, Ron," Hagrid's eyes shone.  "Maybe you'd like ter be the first to pick a partner outta the hat then?  Yer father suggested we do this in muggle fashion." He held up a large brown top hat.  "Pieces of paper with the students' names written on 'em.  Jus' reach in ter see who ya get!"

            Ron shrugged, silently prayed, and reached into the hat.  He held up the paper he retrieved anxiously, cringing as Medina Meridian knocked over a huge punch bowl.

            "Thank goodness," Ron exhaled.  "I got you, Harry!"

            Harry looked at the paper with interest.  There was a small illustration of him (glasses, scar, and all) winking on it.  The cartoon Harry continued by pointing at himself and a small message bubble appeared over his head, "You got me!  We're partners!" It read.

            "Lucky!" Ron sighed.  "For a minute there I was almost sure I'd be stuck with…"

            In an effort to clean up the spilled punch with the tablecloth, Medina had managed to get some girls tangled in her mess.  They all suddenly fell with a thud, struggling to escape the sopping tablecloth.

            Harry frowned.  "I don't think it's really her fault, Ron.  Can't help it if you're born clumsy."

            "Can't help it if you're born unlucky, either, can you?" Parvati approached, tears in her eyes.  "_I'm_ stuck with her!" She flashed her slip of paper, with a figure of Meridian leaping for joy and falling over on it.  A message bubble over her head appeared with the word 'oops' in it.

            Hermione had arrived with Parvati.  "Don't be _too_ harsh, Parvati.  I've heard it's a tad easy to hurt her feelings."

            "We'll just see who hurts whom in the end!" Parvati wailed as she witnessed her new partner pulling over the entire table with a crash, onto Pansy's head.

            "Who hasn't gotta partner, now?" Hagrid called out, offering the hat of names.  "Miss Parkinson?  Come pick out yer assistant!"

            Pansy, holding a hand to her throbbing head, approached the hat with dislike, clearly not too keen on taking her chances with a list full of mundane-born.

            "Come on there," Hagrid shook the hat at her.  "None of 'em bite!"

            She wrinkled up her nose, and thrust her entire arm into the hat, shuffling the choices around before surfacing with one.  "Finch-Fletchley," she read, looking relieved.

            "Keep 'em comin'!" Hagrid beckoned the un-partnered lot, beaming at those who'd already claimed their papers from the hat, examining the enchanted drawings on them.

            "It's really a striking resemblance," Parvati nodded blandly.  Medina was leaning over her shoulder excitedly, pointing at the illustration as it took another fall, declaring 'oops,' in its speech bubble.

            "It's me, it's me!" Medina squealed, getting a little too enthusiastic with her pointing, and accidentally slapping Ron in the face.

            "Watch it!" Ron backed away from her, seriously frightened.

            "Oh," She blinked rapidly, snatching the sleeve of Ron's sweater.  "Your cheek… your cheek… your cheek is going all scarlet!  So sorry, Ron, didn't mean it!"

            Ron gave Parvati a look that clearly said 'good luck.'

            "Don't be upset, Medina," Hermione retrieved her wand from the muggle-like coat she was wearing.  "I have a spell to take away the sting of something like a… slap.  No harm done." She raised the wand over her head and began the incantation, but when her hand fell, the wand wasn't in it.

            Harry was already bristling at something behind her.  "Give Hermione's wand back!"

            Ron:  Great!  This is the moment I was waiting for!

            Hermione:  I thought you didn't like this facet of the story?

            Ron:  Not especially, but I've got something I want to do:

            The amazing Ron Weasley picked up Hermione by the shoulders and moved her over a few feet, and then floored Malfoy, who was the one standing behind her and had stolen her wand, of course.  He bent over, reclaimed the wand, and offered it to his friend.

            "I believe this is yours?"

            Hermione:  (miserable)  _Why_ did you do that?

            Ron:  (shrugs)  I haven't gotten to do anything neat for a while!

            Hermione:  Why does something 'neat' always seem to involve breaking rules in front of gigantic crowds of people!?

            Ron:  Oh come on!  You've decked Malfoy before in _real_ life!

            Hermione:  (sighs _very_ loudly)  Oh all right, but I expect you to fix this so the story can go on.

            Ron:  (gallantly)  My pleasure:

            Crabbe and Goyle had been momentarily removed from Draco while they were trying desperately to match the pictures on their slips of paper with someone in the crowd.  The crunching sound and shocked gasps awoke their attention, however, and they rushed to the scene.

            "The bodyguards have arrived," Parvati snorted, folding her arms.

            "Oh, get _off_!" Malfoy hissed, shaking his two 'friends' off.  That was probably a smart thing to do, since they seemed too dim to figure out how to help him to his feet.  "Go…" He wiped some blood from under his nose; Ron was sooo strong, after all.  "Go find your stupid mudblood liabilities, already!"

            "And the bodyguards have left the building," Parvati commentated.

            "You'd better go, too." Harry looked dead serious.  "And maybe you should apologize to Hermione, while you're at it."

            Upright again, Draco gave him a withering glare.  "As much as I'd like to exit company with the 'dream team'," He turned to Hermione.  "I have to ask you what you're going to do about _this_!"

            Hermione gripped her wand tightly as she leaned forward to see the piece of paper that Malfoy was shaking at her.  Her angry expression melted as she focused on the portrait on it.  "Uh…" She said stupidly.

            "What is it?" Harry said sharply.

            "Well?!" Malfoy demanded.  "What are you going to _do_, then?  Stand there all day with your mouth open like Potter playing Quidditch?"

            Hermione recovered a bit of dignity.  "I will _not_ help _you_ with _any_ project!" She punctuated every other word by slamming her wand against her palm.  "I think you should go make a trade."

            "He got _you_!?" Ron stammered.  "Want me to slug him again?"

            "No," Hermione said quickly.  "This can be fixed." She said, clearly unnerved.  "Go trade with someone."

            Malfoy looked reluctant to agree.  "I guess it's the only thing to do no matter _how_ stupid the idea is.  Seriously Granger, I wonder _how_ you get such good grades with a slow mind like that." He raised a blonde eyebrow.  "Maybe there's more to your staying after classes than having some questions answered, hm?"

            "What do you mean?" Harry said.

            "You had your chance to avoid this kind of filth, Potter," Draco continued.  "I hate to be the one to tell you, but Granger is dirty in more ways than one."

            Ron responded by-

            Hermione:  Do _not_ punch him again!

            Ron:  Why not?  Do you hear what he just said about you?

            Hermione:  (disbelievingly)  _You_ wrote it!

            Ron:  Er… well, then let me finish!

            Hermione:  No, you're going too far.  It's my turn anyway:

            Ron responded by stepping out of the way as Hermione floored Malfoy again.  "Nobody talks about me like that!"

            Ron:  Hm.  Not bad for a girl.  I just want you to know that _I_ weakened him, first.

            Hermione:  Uh-huh, my hero.  Now allow me to seal their fates:

            Harry and his friends moved away from the scene, whistling innocently.

            "Funny how Hagrid didn't notice any of that," Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

            "He's too obsessed with that ruddy hat my dad came up with." Ron shook his head.  "I don't think he'd notice if You-Know-Who himself Apparated in here."

            Harry looked upset.  "I hope you get somebody better, Hermione.  It'd be a real shame if you were forced into helping the Slytherins get a good grade on this assignment."

            Hermione snapped.  "Oh, stop being so selfish, Harry.  You're just disappointed that I might not help those pathetic Gryffindors this time."

            "From one pathetic Gryffindor to another," Ron scowled at her.  "I think Harry was trying to be sympathetic."

            She clamped a hand over her mouth.  "I don't know why I said that!  I'm sorry, Harry, I take it back!"

            "Are you… tired or something?" Harry still looked a tad hurt.  "That's the third time today you've acted all… well… different."

            Hermione nodded.  "I'll try a few detecting spells on myself tonight… you know, see if I've picked up some strange magical effect in one of my classes."

            "Is that possible?" Ron didn't like the sound of that.  "Do you think Snape may have slipped you something?"

            She pursed her lips.  "Please don't jump to conclusions, it might just be a bad mood on my part."

            "_Granger_!?" Malfoy had returned.

            "What do you want now?" Ron asked threateningly.

            "Brilliant, just brilliant," This time, Malfoy shoved the piece of paper roughly into Hermione's hand.  "Just look how worthless you and your ideas are!"

            She eyed the smiling drawing of herself for the second time.  "This is the same paper!  Couldn't you find anybody to trade with!?"

            "Again with the _brilliant_ observations!" Draco roared.  "I _did_ trade, Granger.  I was even willing to take that walking disaster Meridian before you!"

            "So you traded with Parvati," Harry said.

            "As soon as we switched, the drawings changed, too." He pointed at the Hermione picture, whose speech bubble was saying 'you're doing it all wrong!'  "I can't believe I'm stuck with _you_!"

            Hermione's eyes were ablaze.  "I _refuse_ to work with you!"

            "I'm not taking a failing grade because of you!"

            "Then you'll have to figure it all out yourself!"

            "I don't know the first thing about those ridiculous muggles!"

            Hermione sniffled.  "Then it looks like you _are_ going to fail."

            Malfoy rose his pointer finger face level, as though he were about to shoot her in the forehead with an invisible gun.  "I'll tell that great lump, Hagrid, and he'll _make_ you do it."

            "He would never listen to _you_."

            "Are you really going to force me to use my last resort?"

            "What's that?" Hermione tried to look indifferent, but she gulped all the same.

            Draco seemed to be scrutinizing her up and down.  "Don't you miss your old walrus tusks?" He pointed at her mouth.  "Everybody knows those aren't your real teeth.  You're still 'Granger the Saber-toothed' to everybody, and you're certainly not fooling anyone."

            Hermione, Harry, and Ron glared in silence.

            Pleased with their reaction, Malfoy continued.  "Same goes for your hair."  He pulled on some of her hair again, but forgot to react as though he'd touched something vile.  "I could put that back to the way it was, too."

            "Stop threatening her!" Harry interrupted.

            "Oh, shut up, Potter." Malfoy spat.

To her shame, Hermione found herself speaking the same words.  "Shut _up_, Potter!"  She slammed both hands over her mouth again.  "Harry, I swear I'm not trying to do that!" Her eyes brimmed with tears.  "What's wrong with me?"

            Ron:  Can I slug him _now_?

            Hermione:  No, you can't!  You're mystified right now.

            Ron:  I'm not mystified!  You're in distress, and I should take action!

            Hermione:  There's been enough action to last the whole fic already, thanks to you.

            Unoriginality:  Hi, I'm back!

            Ron & Hermione:  (groan)

            Unoriginality:  I thought I'd see how your progress is coming… you know… help you out if you need it.

            Ron:  We don't need your help!

            Unoriginality:  (huffy)  Funny, you've used all my suggestions so far.

            Hermione:  Just go for it then… I could use a new lesson topic anyway.

            Unoriginality:  (excited)  I knew you needed me:

            Soo Hary exepted Hermonee's apogoly, and thay relyzed there amazing luv for eech uther, and gotted married, and livvd happy evr aftur.  The end.

            Ron:  (bored)  Oh really?

            Hermione:  Really, Miss Unoriginality, in a strange sort of way, you're a great source of inspiration.  Which leads me to my next point:

Elly: Hi, all!  The next update will focus on fics living up to their potential, rather than drifting away into incomplete status never to be seen again.  Thanks for your support!


	4. Lesson 4 The Direction

**Lesson 4: Ten Things to do Before I Die**

            Hermione:  A lot of Harry Potter fics don't live up to their potential.  It seems inevitable that the author will at some point, become bored, lazy, or forgetful of their project, leaving out some of the great ideas they originally had for the story and ending it in an awkward spot.  Miss Unoriginality's go is a great example of ending things the _wrong_ way.

            My advice?  Hang in there.  Make a list of the most important things that _you_ wanted in your story.  Some of these may have to be sacrificed at one point or another in favor of quality, but the ideas might provide inspiration to keep up the good work.

            Ron:  Okay!  Number ten: I want to see Ron and Harry ride the Colossus Cruiser.

            Hermione:  Number nine: I want to see the relationship between Hermione's curse and her new hair.  Have you noticed my subtle foreshadowing, Ron?

            Ron:  What are you talking about?

            Hermione:  Every time her hair gets touched, my character goes into 'evil mode.'

            Ron:  Oh that.  Yeah, uh… (clears throat) 'course I noticed.  Number eight:  I want some tie-ins to the big picture.  You know, an appearance by You-Know-Who or something.

            Unoriginality:  Number seven: I want to see Harry and Hermione confess their beautiful love for each other and have a hundred kids!

            Ron:  I thought you wanted DxHr before?

            Hermione:  Authors are fickle.  Now go away, Miss Unoriginality, we're working.  Ahem, number six: I want to see Harry get a bit disillusioned with Hermione for yelling at him all the time.

            Ron:  You want all stuff for _you_!  Number five: I want to see more action!

            Hermione:  Number four: I want to discover what that mysterious portkey described in the very first paragraph leads to.

            Ron:  Number three: I want to see somebody do their muggle report on toiletries!

            Hermione:  You want what?

            Ron:  It would be funny!

            Hermione:  Er… well, strange as it may be, you're on to something.  Number two: I want to see more comic relief.

            Ron:  (dramatically)  And the number one reason people prefer unicorn hair over phoenix feathers for their wands…

            Hermione:  Oh, you and your _joking_.

            Ron:  You said you wanted to see more comic relief.

            Hermione:  Not right now.

            Ron:  Practicing that sentence for your future married life?  (feigns a girl's voice… though it doesn't sound much like one)  Not right now, dear!

            Hermione:  (smug)  What can I say?  I'm just not turned on by comedy.

            Ron:  (normal voice)  So maybe if I read you a nice, boring book, then?

            Hermione:  Ahem.  Number one: I want to see more mystery!

            Ron:  It was a dark and stormy night…

            Hermione:  Not _that_ kind of mystery.

            Ron:  It was a bright and clear night?

            Hermione:  Will you _quit_?!

            Ron:  Not until you admit you like it!

            Hermione:  Like what?

            Ron:  A little bit of humor:

            In an attempt to lighten the mood, the remarkable Ron Weasley broke into a joke.  Everybody listened to the set up, unable to tear their attention away until the punch line, "That's not a hippogriff, that's my wife!"

            They all laughed uncontrollably.

            Hermione:  That… that is just _so_ bad.

            Ron:  Own up, Hermione, where would this story be without my wit, huh?

            Hermione:  A little less ridiculous, I'd say.

            Ron:  Ooo, you're asking for it:

            "Tell another one, Ron!" Hermione pleaded, wiping tears of laughter off her cheeks.

            "Sure!" Ron was _always_ willing to help cheer his friends up.  "Have any of you heard the one where a boggart, a house-elf, and an animated piece of rope walk into a bar?"

            "Do tell!" Harry exclaimed, clasping his hands.

            "Well," Ron had to hold back a premature chuckle… it's just that the joke was _sooo_ funny!  "The piece of rope says, 'I'd like a butterbeer for me and my friend the elf, but we'd better have a polyjuice potion for the boggart!'"

            Everybody burst out with laughter once again, doubling over.

            Hermione:  That doesn't even make _sense_!

            Ron:  You don't get it?

            Hermione:  It's not funny.

            Ron:  Better admit it soon or this story will be beyond all help:

            "One more?" Ron asked.  They were all laughing so hard that couldn't say yes, so they just nodded their heads.

            "Okay," Ron rubbed his hands together, thinking up a good one.  "Oh, there's this one where a wizard goes to his favorite restaurant and orders chicken noodle soup for his cold, and when the soup arrives, he says, 'Waiter, there's an animagus in my cauldron'!"

            This was too much, Harry, Hermione, and Malfoy passed out from laughing too hard.

            Hermione:  (frantic)  No, you're ruining our story!  I give!

            Ron:  Okay, then say it!

            Hermione:  Okay, okay, okay.  I'd be lost without your sense of humor… when you use it properly, that is.  Those last three entries were just… wrong.

            Ron:  (satisfied)

            Hermione:  Now let's see if I can fix this:

            "Hermione?  Malfoy?" Hagrid stood over the two unconscious students, prodding them gently.  "Ya oughtta get up now!"

            Hermione blinked her eyes several times before really seeing anything.  "Hagrid?  What happened?"

            "I think Ron musta used a pack of Laughing Spores on ya," Hagrid explained, plucking a mushroom growing from Hermione's forehead and tossing it aside.  "It'll make any person laugh at any joke, even if it's not funny!"

            "That explains it!" Hermione rose to a sitting position.  "The last thing I remember was something about chicken soup!" She shook her head.  "Where is everybody?"

            "They all got their assignments explained, an' their off workin' on 'em already."

            "You mean we're," She glanced at the sleeping Slytherin that had collapsed nearby… too nearby.  She stood up and stepped away.  "That we're the only ones left to get an assignment?"

            Hagrid nodded.  "I'll go get the parchment for ya.'  Why don' ya' wake up your partner, Sleeping Beauty here, so I can explain the assignment to ya' both?"

            She wanted to tell Hagrid that she'd rather not, but he had already disappeared into the most gigantic filing cabinet she'd ever seen.  She grimaced at her task.

            "Get up," Hermione requested weakly.

            When there was no response, she bent over and pulled the little mushroom out of Draco's forehead.  This seemed to do the trick.

            "What…"

            "We were rendered unconscious by _these_." She answered the question before it was even asked, holding the 'shroom between two fingers.  "Get up already, we're getting our assignment!"

            "Still lookin'!" Hagrid announced from the oversized filing cabinet.  "There's gotta be another one in here!"

            "Laughing Spores," Malfoy obviously recognized the charm-gag.  "I'm going to _kill_ that stupid Weasley!"

            Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Please spare me the homicidal venting right now.  I want to concentrate on whatever the assignment is, so I can get on with the rest of my life."

            "Undoubtedly by 'life,' you mean skulking around the library?"

            "Actually, I meant Slytherin-free."

            "Foun' it!" Hagrid emerged.  "Las' one left, but I knew Mr. Weasley would 'ave made jus' enough.  These were his idea, ya' know!"

            Hermione smiled superficially, but she was secretly dreading what Ron's dad could have possibly come up with for a muggle research project.

            "Ya' know, Mr. Weasley has a little side interest," Hagrid scratched his head as he unrolled the parchment.  "Very interested in muggles, he is.  Came up with a couple subjects for ya' to research for 'im."

            "Well?" Hermione had intended for that to sound sweeter than it did.  "What is the subject, then?"

            Hagrid studied the writing, concentrating.  "Er… toiletries?  Is tha' what it says?"

            Both doomed students leaned over to double-check.  "Yes," they groaned.

            "Toiletries, then!" Hagrid announced, as though he had made the decision himself.  "Anyhoo, you two are 'sposed to come up with a sorta packet of information on these… toiletries." He pointed to the top third of the parchment.  "Here's your shoppin' list.  Says you can go ter a 'drug store' for the stuff.  Wonder if that's kinda like the shops for potions' ingredients in Diagon Alley?"

            "No," Hermione said blandly.

            "Oh well, that's okay, cause you can figure it out, eh, Hermione?" He chuckled.  "Anyhoo, bring the stuff back here, an' do the tests," He pointed to the middle of the parchment.  "Here.  Then write some reports for Mr. Weasley… an' then you're done!  Got all that?"

            Malfoy snatched the parchment violently.  He scanned it, and seemed to come across something he _really_ didn't like.  "_My_ father-"

            "Signed righ' here." Hagrid pointed to the bottom of the page.  "Your parents signed too, Hermione." He shrugged his massive shoulders.  "Looks like you're both stuck with it."

            "Hagrid," Hermione pleaded.  "Can't you do _anything_?  Can't you at least give us a different research topic… like economics?"

            "_Economics_!?" Draco looked horrified.

            "Sorry," Hagrid said.  "But it should only take a day, if ya' hurry.  Then you'll have the las' three days to yerself.  But I'm warnin' ya,' the Ministry's payin' special attention to us while we're here, so don' think ya' can get away with doin' magic out in the streets!"

            Ron:  (pleased)  Toiletries!  Oh, yeah!

            Hermione:  That was one of your better ideas… in complete contrast to the 'animagus in my soup' joke, of course!

            Ron:  Great as the jokes are, though, I think I've sort of forgotten what the whole point of this fic was supposed to be.

            Hermione:  Er… yeah.  I was afraid of that.  Let me pull out one of my charts.


	5. Lesson 5 The Purpose

Lesson 5: Harry Who and the Globe of What!? 

            Hermione:  Yes, I dove into this project with a point in mind, but though the act of writing, it's been lost… but _not_ forgotten!

            Ron:  I never even knew what it was.

            Hermione:  Those charts I was talking about earlier are actually very important, but let's focus on just one of them for a second.

            Ron:  Argh!  Not the charts!

            Hermione:  Be quiet.  Even _you_ could appreciate this one.  It's called the 'plot pyramid' and it is indispensable for a comprehensible fanfic.

            Ron:  I like incomprehensible.

            Hermione:  _Please_!  This is _really_ easy!  You simply start at the top layer of the pyramid with the main plot, and work your way down with all the branching sub-plots, and such.

            Ron:  (sniffles)  Goodbye, fun, spontaneous fic…

            Hermione:  (exasperated)  Don't you think there are already _enough_ spontaneous fics out there?  Elly and The Gundam Wing Fan have written enough for the whole _country_.  We do not need to add to them.

            Ron:  I should have known it was too good to be true.  Having a good time with you while working on a project, that is.

            Hermione:  Okay, authors, get out a piece of parchment and a quill, and write one sentence describing the main plot of your fic at the top-middle… Ron, why aren't you writing?

            Ron:  What!?  I'm just along for the ride!

            Hermione:  (screams)  _Write_!!!

            Ron:  (startled)  You can be so scary sometimes!  (picks up quill)

            Hermione:  (calmer)  Once you've got your main plot, you can move down to the second level which can contain any number of sub-plots connected to the top-plot.  For simplicity's sake, let's keep the top layer to only _one_ main plot, although you could technically have more.  What do you have so far, apprentice writer?

            Ron:  Ahem: Top Layer: Harry and Ron ride the Colossus Cruiser.

            Hermione:  (silence)

            Ron:  That's wrong, isn't it… it's _always_ wrong with you!!  Like when we're working on homework…

            Hermione:  Seriously… do you _seriously_ believe that's the main plot!?

            Ron:  Well… it _does_ seem a little silly…

            Hermione:  Silly?  Yes, I do think writing an entire story based around _that_ premise would be silly.

            Ron:  What's the answer then?

            Hermione:  (sighs)  Do I have to do _everything_?  Fine.  In this story's case, I'd say the top-plot would be: The Globe of Fortune!

            Ron:  The Globe of What?

            Hermione:  Yes, I _have_ gotten a little off-track, haven't I?  Well… it's _your_ fault, anyway!

            Ron:  _Me_?  I've only been trying to help!

            Hermione:  Let's just try to iron this out, shall we?  Moving down to the second layer.  All of these sub-plots have to be _directly_ connected to the top-layer… so the Colossus Cruiser doesn't count obviously.

            Ron:  (grumbles)

            Hermione:  Instead, I'm going to write down the 'barber's pole portkey,' and of course the 'minion's tipping off.'

            Ron:  And you say my _jokes_ don't make any sense…

            Hermione:  I know what I'm doing!  You should have more and more sub-plots as you move down layers in the pyramid; which is why it's a pyramid, don't you see?

            Ron:  I'm getting dizzy.

            Hermione:  (writing rapidly)  So on the third level, connecting to the 'barber's pole portkey,' I have the 'Colossus Cruiser,' and the 'muggle money stash.'  Connected to the 'minion's tipping off,' I put 'convenient sabotage.'

            Ron:  Wait a minute… I thought you said the Colossus Cruiser wasn't the right answer… and what does _it_ have to do with that globe thing?

            Hermione:  The beauty of the pyramid, is that you write your story from the base up!  In other words, we're not to that part yet.

            Ron:  So what level _are_ we on?

            Hermione:  Whichever level contains the 'devil camera' sub-plot, and the 'treasure map' sub-plot.

            Ron:  I still don't recognize any of that.

            Hermione:  Just watch and learn:

            "What's the shopping list say, then?" Harry kicked a tin can off the sidewalk.  He and Ron were sitting on a bench, going over their assignment.

            Ron scrunched up his nose.  "_Weird_ stuff!  Two movie-tickets, one medium popcorn, Jr. Mints?  Harry, what are Jr. Mints?"

            "Muggle sweets," Harry said, taking the parchment.  "Looks like our assignment's going to the movies!  Lucky!"

            "What's that?"

            "Er," Harry wasn't sure how to explain.  "It's kind of like television."

            "What's that?"

            "Maybe it's like a performance?"

            Ron shook his head.  "I guess I'll just find out, huh?"

            "Yeah," Harry was relieved.  "So what kind of questions will we have to answer for the assignment?"

            "Leave it to my dad to come up with questions like these!" Ron smirked.  "For example: Describe the comfort level of the cinema seating.  Is it firm?  Is it cushy?  How do you see over the head of the person in front of you?  Can you hear the film over the sound of crunching popcorn?  How?"

            They both laughed.

            "So, you're the expert," Ron looked around.  "What do we do now?"

            Harry thought.  "Well, I guess we find the nearest cinema.  I've never actually _been_ before, but Dudley talks about some of the movies he sees sometimes.  Maybe we could flag down a taxi and let them take us?"

            "Okay!" Ron said enthusiastically, standing up from the bench and waving his arms around.  "Taxi!"

            Ron:  You're making me sound stupid again.

            Hermione:  Well, how would you know how to properly call a taxi?

            Ron:  Still, I don't think I'd be imitating a dying bird as my first try.

            Hermione:  (shrugs)  Guess there's nobody better to ask.  Ron, what would Ron do?

            Ron:  Something like this:

            "Ron, don't!" Harry called, too late.

            "Taxi!  Taxi!" Ron muttered a few strange words, and produced his wand from his sweater.  The wand sprouted a small, yellow piece of cloth with the word 'taxi' printed on it.  Ron waved it around like a flag.

            "We're not supposed to use magic here!" Harry warned.

            "Well," Ron lowered the self-fashioned flag, remembering the rules.  "Where else are we going to find a taxi flag?"

            It struck Harry that this would be a very difficult assignment if he didn't take control of things.  "You don't actually need a flag," he said patiently.  "Just watch the road for a taxi and flag it down, like this."

            Ron watched as Harry called a cab, scribbling down some notes on their parchment for extra-credit.  "Hold up your hand, and wait for the taxi to arrive… but watch out or you might get run over!"

            "Hey!" Harry exclaimed as the taxi pulled too far over, nearly hitting him.

            Hermione:  How is that so much more dignified?

            Ron:  That's what I would do.

            Hermione:  Well… okay:

            "Take us to the nearest cinema, please!" Ron ordered the driver, excitedly.

            "Er… how much money do you think it will be?" Harry asked.

            The driver sniffed distractedly.  "Nearest theatre's just down the street."

            "Perhaps we'll just walk then," Harry couldn't finish his sentence before the cab had kicked into gear and raced down the street again, missing flattening his toes by an inch.  "Friendly…"

            Ron started writing again, "And don't offend the driver-person, or they'll try to mow you down." He stuffed the quill and parchment into his sweater with the abandoned wand.  "Gee Harry, that was close!  London's exciting!"

            Ron:  You don't know me at _all_, do you?

            Hermione:  What do you mean?

            Ron:  I would never say 'gee!'  That's so stupid!

            Hermione:  All right, enlighten me.  What would Ron say?

            Ron:  Hmmmm:

            "Watch where you're driving!  You're a disgrace to the road!  You should have your license revoked!  Hit and run!  Somebody note that license plate!" Ron jumped up and down, pointing at the offending cab.

            Hermione:  (smiling)  That's not what you'd do!

            Ron:  How would you know?

            Hermione:  You always get so quiet during crisis situations!  (thinks)  Except when you're being strangled or stabbed, that is.  You woke all of Hogwarts up that one time!

            Ron:  I do _not_ get quiet!  I would totally curse that taxi out, but _you're_ reading this, so I've got to keep it under control!

            Hermione:  (giggles)  Okay, maybe you're right:

            "Stop swearing!" Harry covered his ears as Ron yelled his mind to the departing car.

            "Sorry, Harry." Ron shook his head as the taxi cruised out of view.  "But he could have killed you!"

            Ron:  That's better!

            Hermione:  (sarcastic)  You have no idea how relieved I am.  I was starting to think that nothing short of yet _another_ explosion would make you happy!

            Ron:  Don't worry!  I'll blow _something_ up before this is over.

            Hermione:  Please don't ruin the story… I've worked so hard…

            Ron:  Take it easy for once, Hermione:

            As is common for excited people, Ron began to worry about ridiculous things.  "Harry, how will we know which movie to see?  What if we can't count out the money properly?  What if I have to sneeze during the show?"

            Harry smiled despite himself, leading the way down the street.  "Go ahead and sneeze, I'd say.  And while you're at it, don't worry so much.  It'll be easy!"

            "Probably easier than Hermione's economics report, anyway," Ron agreed.  "I feel kind of bad for leaving her back there… passed out and everything."

            "She's fine," Harry located the old building they were seeking.  "Hagrid's there."

            "This is _it_, huh?" Ron admired the theatre as they made their way to the ticket booth.

            "Do you have the wallet?" Harry asked.

            "Oh, yeah," He pulled a shiny wallet out of his sweater.  Harry was beginning to wonder how much stuff he had stashed in there.  "Better let _you_ handle the money."

            Harry took the wallet.  "Okay.  Which film do you want to see?" He gestured at the posters lining the front of the cinema.

            It was your typical summer offerings: action shows aplenty, a few dramas, and the all-necessary chick flick.

            "Not very good _advertisements_, are they?" Ron judged.  "Now if they had pictures that _moved_ on these posters, I might have a better idea of what to see."

            Harry shrugged.  "They kind of save the _moving_ pictures for paying customers.  You'll just have to take your chances."

            "Okay then, I pick… _this_ one!  It's called 'The Front Line.'  That sounds good, right?"

            "Sure," Harry proceeded to the booth.  "Two for The Front Line, please." He tried to smile naturally, but felt out of place.

            The ticket-taker looked bored.  She looked down her long nose at Harry.  "Doesn't start for an hour."

            "Er… we'll buy them anyway."

            "It'll be eight fifty."

            At this opportunity, Ron came hurtling to Harry's side, watching closely as he removed cash from the wallet.  "How can you tell them apart?"

            "It's not hard," Harry forgot about paying for a moment.  "You just read the bill amounts here, and the coins have their value stamped on them."

            Ron marveled.

            "You act like you don't know what money is, kid." The woman tapped her long nails against the cash register impatiently.

            "So?" Ron shot back defensively.

            "I don't know," She said snootily.  "Just seems to me that an eighteen year old kid should know what money is."

            "Well for your information, I'm only _six_teen!"

            "Here," Harry handed over eight-fifty, terribly embarrassed.  "Let's go get popcorn, Ron."

            "I _happen_ to be tall for my age!" Ron yelled over his shoulder as Harry dragged him into the depths of the theatre.

            Hermione:  Now you _would_ do that.

            Ron:  (proud)

            Hermione:  Well, let's leave them there, and see what's up with the toiletries report:

            Hermione took both hands off the shopping cart so she could rest her fists on her hips.  "You're not helping."

            Draco had been uselessly following her around the drug store, looking disgusted the whole time.  "I wouldn't know where to look for…" He randomly picked an item off their list.  "For _tweezers_!  I don't even want to know what tweezers _are_!"

            "Well you're _going_ to find out!" Hermione fumed, knocking over a display with the cart.  "And you're _going_ to help!  Go get the toothpaste!"

            He was about to whine about not knowing _where_ any toothpaste was, but was interrupted by Hermione's finger, pointing out the dentistry products.

            "That way."

            "I'm only doing this because," He started walking.  "Because… well, _because_!  That should be a good enough reason for _you_!"

            "Oh, whatever!" She stuck her tongue out, but felt relieved to be shopping alone for a minute.  Now where to find that antibacterial soap…

            There was a feminine giggling sound coming from the shampoo aisle.  Hermione saw a girl about her own age shopping there, trying to hide the fact that she was laughing.  "What's so funny?"

            "Oh, you heard me?" The muggle girl looked at her, still holding some brand-name shampoo.

            "I was just wondering what you were laughing about?"

            The girl leaned in as though she were about to divulge a secret.  "It's just that… well… that reminded me of me and _my_ boyfriend.  We fight all the time."

            Hermione had never been so tempted to try out the Plodari spell.  "He is _not_…" She stammered, imagining how satisfying it would be to watch all those shampoo bottles combust… and it would only take _one_ flick of her wand.  "We're not… you're _wrong_!"

            "Oh!" The girl threw the shampoo into her shopping basket.  "I'm sorry!" She evacuated the aisle, noticing Hermione's wrath.

            "Magic's not _allowed_…" Hermione tried to talk herself out of performing some violent act of magic while she picked out some hair spray.  "The Ministry'd be all over it if I blew up a drug store."

            Still, the idea was very tempting… and much more entertaining than trying to decide between 'natural hold,' and 'ultimate strength' hair spray.  "What difference does it make?" She growled, taking both.  She wondered how bad the other assignments must be, and pictured Harry and Ron studying car grease.  The thought sedated her a bit.

            "_There_ you are." Malfoy's voice woke her from her revelries.  "I got your _toothpaste_." He tossed it into the cart angrily.

            "You didn't get the floss?" Hermione said bossily.

            "You didn't say _anything_ about floss!"

            "It says _right_ here on the list: toothpaste _and_ floss!  How stupid _are_ you?"

            That must have been the 'line.'  Malfoy grabbed Hermione's arms and slammed her into the shelves.  The sight of the shampoo bottles breaking on the floor from the force was not nearly as satisfying as what she had just been imagining.  "_Not_ as stupid as a dead mudblood." He squeezed her arms painfully.  "If I could do magic right now you'd be the consistency of _this_, right now." He tapped his foot on the spreading shampoo.

            Hermione struggled, mentally cursing having such a weak, small frame.  She closed her eyes and tried to reason that Dumbledore wouldn't let anybody get _hurt_ on the fieldtrip, especially by other students.  The reasoning seemed pathetic since her arms currently hurt like the blazes.

            "What's going on?" A clerk had finally arrived to see what all the noise was about.

            It took a few seconds before Hermione felt the pressure loosen up, but eventually she was released.

            "Sorry," Draco addressed the clerk.  "_She'll_ clean it up." He pat the side of her head roughly, as though she were an insignificant animal.

            The strange compulsion that had been making her be mean to Harry lately took control again.  "Whatever you say," she said submissively.

            "Well," The clerk sounded cranky.  "You'll _pay_ for this!  You've ruined a lot of our products, and I expect to be reimbursed!"

            "To hell with the Ministry," Malfoy gritted his teeth and drew his wand on the clerk.

            "Right," To his surprise, Hermione followed suit, brandishing her wand aggressively.  "What do those fools know, anyway?  We should be _ruling_ these people, not _hiding_ from them!"

            "What are you playing at?" He turned to her, prepared to block any surprise attack she might be planning.

            But she didn't attack… didn't attack _him_ anyway.  She proceeded to cast a memory charm on the clerk, looking as though she were enjoying herself.

            "Now," She said casually, ignoring the clerk's disorientated expression.  "I believe we still need to find a disposable camera and a pair of tweezers."

            Ron:  The plot thickens!

            Hermione:  I hope you've noticed that the Ministry hasn't done their duty in _either_ of the magical abuses.

            Ron:  _Either_ one?  There were two?

            Hermione:  You turned your wand into a flag, remember?

            Ron:  That's right.  So what's up, then?

            Hermione:  Oh, I established that _ages_ ago.  The characters aren't going to put it together yet, though.  They'll just believe they were really lucky… or in cases like yours, they won't notice at all.

            Ron:  (disappointed)  Well, I guess you really are evil now.  For a while there, I thought you forgot about that.

            Hermione:  Of _course_ not… aw, don't look like that…

            Ron:  It just always works out that way.  We're enemies, we're friends, we're enemies, we're friends, and now we're enemies again.

            Hermione:  Well, you always seem to say _exactly_ the wrong thing.

            Ron:  And _you're_ always on _Harry's_ side!

            Hermione:  He's more sensible…

            Ron:  He's just easier for you to boss around!

            Hermione:  Well, at _least_ he's not so insensitive that he's hurting my feelings all the time!

            Ron:  What are you on about?

            Hermione:  Implying that I had nothing better to do than go with one of you to the Yule Ball, as if _I_ were the one that couldn't get a date!  I don't want to be your last resort!!

            Ron:  Speaking of which, how _are_ you and Viktor getting on?  Have you taught him to _spell_ yet?

            Hermione:  Fine way to speak about your own _idol_!  And we've had more intelligent conversations that you and I ever had, so I wouldn't talk!

            Ron:  _Fine_!!  You can write the fic with _him_, then!

            Hermione:  I never wanted your help in the _first_ place!

            Ron:  _Fine_!!  Give Miss Unoriginality my regards!  (leaves)

            Hermione:  Fine… so… anyway… um…


	6. Lesson 6 The Conflicts

Lesson 6: Conflicts are the Lifeline 

            Hermione:  Just like in real life, times are more interesting when there are major conflicts.  Make sure you give your characters incentive to do what they do.  In other words, make their lives one big jumble of conflicts!

            A good example of this would be when Harry was concerned that he might actually belong in the Slytherin house during the Chamber of Secrets incident.  The conflict actually drove him along, until he finally resolved it by talking to the Sorting Hat, and seeing Godric Gryffindor's name on the sword.  It's much more interesting that way than if he had an 'I'm a perfect Gryffindor, and I fit in _so_ well,' attitude.

            So invent some conflicts.  Nobody wants to hear a story about someone sitting down to eat an uneventful dinner, but they might if the dinner turns out to be a mutated lobster that tries to take over the world.  Well… that might be a bit extreme, but it's the _conflict_ that makes it exciting!

            The characters should have conflicts with their enemies, their situations, their peers, their past, their future, and yes, even conflicts with their friends.  They're probably just fighting because they can't admit how they feel about each other, anyway.

            (goes pale)  No.  Scratch that.  That is a _ridiculous_ conflict, and it would absolutely _never_ happen.  People only fight because they don't like each other… really… it's _true_.

            (remembers to breathe)  Anyway, don't let your story get stale!  Keep the conflicts coming:

            "Turn yourself in!?" Malfoy couldn't stop glancing around, expecting to see a sign of the Ministry everywhere.  "You'd better just count yourself as lucky this time… you'd have to be an _idiot_ to turn yourself in!"

            "But I feel terrible," Hermione was concentrating on not throwing up.  She was leaning over a toilet bowl just in case.  "That man didn't do _anything_ wrong!  And I didn't mean to…"

            Malfoy was leaning against the wall, unconcerned with her discomfort.  "Didn't mean to?  You looked like you were having the time of your life!  I was just waiting on the maniacal laughter!"

            "Bwa ha ha," She choked.  "There.  You happy?"

            "Not today," He held out the assignment parchment.  "And not until you get this stupid project done!"

            "Not until _we_ get it done," She said bossily, standing up.  "I'm not letting you get away with being lazy… you're going to do your share!"

            Draco looked evil… in a lazy sort of way.  "I thought you might have caught on in the store." The evil look became a little less lazy.  "You don't tell me what to do."

            "Seriously," Hermione started unpacking the contents of the shopping bags onto the sink counter.  "You'd think that if I were going to break the magic prohibition, I would have gotten in a couple spells at _you_." The nausea returned at the thought of breaking such an important rule.  "Well anyway, it's good we got a different clerk to ring this stuff up before they realized what happened."

            "Well… _let's_ do the project so I can be rid of you.  I'm not interested in being your accomplice in crimes, thanks."

            Hermione wished that Ron had been somewhere nearby, so she could have had somebody reliable to confide in.  The guilt was sickening.

            Hermione:  Wha… oh, sorry.  Typographical error.  That _should_ have said:

            Hermione wished that _Harry_ had been somewhere nearby, so she could have had somebody reliable to confide in.  The guilt was sickening.

            Hermione:  There.  (sniffles)  I mean, Ron reliable?  What a joke!  (looks downcast at the word 'joke')  Er… anyhow:

            "Alright," Draco perused the list of questions.  "It says, 'take before and after photos for using a muggle-brand toothpaste.  Describe the difference.'  How stupid."

            Hermione tried to shake off her bad feelings and focus.  "At least it's easy.  My parents are both dentists, and as they'd have you know, _nothing_ is more important than dental care."

            "I don't _care_ what your parents say, Granger!" Malfoy picked up the camera.  "Now say cheese.  This is your 'before' picture."

            She smiled a tiny smile.  The camera clicked.  "Okay, give it here, and _you_ say cheese."

            He handed the camera over.  "I just would like to remind you that I'm only doing this because-"

            She snapped the picture.  "Just because.  I think we already _had_ that discussion." She held up a toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste the way a flight attendant displays a life jacket.  She then demonstrated the process of brushing one's teeth.  "Nice circular motion," She quoted her parents.

            "This is _so_ stupid!  Just give me the toothpaste." He repeated the same process.

            They took two more pictures, and continued on to the next item.

            "The tweezers," Malfoy announced.  "We're supposed to find out what they're for, and try it out.  Tweezers… tweezers… that is a _weird_ word."

            Hermione had never really thought about it.  "Yeah… it kind of is.  Anyway, they're for plucking out hair."

            He turned the object over with new interest.  "This little thing is for torture?"

            "Not torture.  You can groom your eyebrows with it, make them a nice shape by pulling out unnecessary hairs… stuff like that."

            Draco looked mildly disappointed.  "It doesn't hurt?"

            "I've never done it." Hermione admitted.  "It's supposed to be a little painful, though."

            "_Your_ eyebrows are a little bushy." He observed, filling in a line on the parchment.

            She balked.  "Oh, no.  I'm not goin-"

            "It says right _here_!" He flashed the piece of paper in front of her nose, and the authority was unmistakable.  "We're supposed to try it out!"

            "But why me?" She found herself wishing Ron would show up.

            Hermione:  Erk.  I'm just tired.  That's what it is:

            "But why me?" She found herself wishing _Harry_ would show up.

            "Because it looks to me like _you_ could benefit from it." Malfoy approached her threateningly.  "Really, it looks like you could benefit from a _hedging_, but this will do."

            "No!" Hermione wailed, feeling defenseless for the second time in a few hours.  "Don't do it!"

            "The sooner you give in," Draco grunted as he forced her to lie down on the counter top.  "The sooner this will all be over with, _right_?"

            She squirmed desperately.  "I'll… _curse_ you!  I'll really do it!  You've seen how dangerous I can be!"

            "Yeah," He somehow had _her_ wand in his hand.  "But not without _this_.  Now hold still, already!"

            Pinned, she didn't seem to have any other option.  "Help!  Hagrid!  Somebody!"

            "Stop moving!" Malfoy warned her, pinching the tweezers in front of her eyes.  "You don't want me to do a lousy job, do you?"

            It happened so quickly, it was almost disappointing.  She could feel the sting as a hair was pulled out from over her eye, but it wasn't so bad.

            "Don't… don't butcher my face, please," Hermione begged, trying to relax a little.

            "Shh." He replied harshly, leaning over her face.

            She felt more hairs being plucked, and imagined what she was going to look like when he was done.  It was a scary thought.

            "Don't _cry_," Malfoy growled.  "I'm not going to ruin your eyebrows.  What kind of grade would we get?"

            He let her up, so she could see in the mirror.  True enough, nothing hideous had transpired.  In fact, her eyebrows were looking shapelier already!  She suddenly felt ashamed of the tears on her cheeks.  "Oh."

            "But if you can't stand it," The thrill of hurting her had obviously worn off.  "I'll quit."

            "You can't leave it like this!" She exclaimed.  "I'm… lopsided."

            He raised his own eyebrows, looking almost flattered.  "Stop complaining then.  And get that fake hair out of the way!" He moved the inconvenient strands off her forehead, preparing to finish the job.

            Hermione suddenly inhaled deeply, feeling strange, but it wasn't the nausea.  "You like what I did to that fool clerk?"

            Malfoy withdrew, immediately recognizing the mood change.  "I thought you were feeling guilty?"

            "Guilty?  Over a muggle?  Why?"

            "What is _up_ with you, Granger?  I've heard Weasley call you moody, but this is ridiculous!"

            She lifted herself off the counter.  "What would _he_ know?  Stupid Gryffindor."

            "You're a Gryffindor."

            "Stupid Sorting Hat!" Hermione purred.  "And the worst thing of it all: I'm stuck in the same house as that damn Potter!  Always pretending to be _so_ good!" She flitted her fingers in the air.  "It's _unbearable_!"

            Draco looked worried.  "I must have hit your head harder than I thought…"

            "You know, _I_ think we should take a break and go throw something nasty in the Gryffindor's room!"

            "What?  No!  Focus on the project!"

            Hermione looked semi-worshipful.  "Oh, okay!"  She took the parchment and started filling out all the questions.

            "You're doing that right… right?" He was shocked how quickly she had agreed.  "You're not trying to ruin it, are you?"

            "No!" She stopped writing and looked mournful.  "Why would I do that?"

            "Because you have a concussion or something…"

            The subordinate attitude faded within an instant.  "And _whose_ fault is that!?" Hermione was suddenly yelling, more like normal.  "What did you think you were doing, _attacking_ me in the store like that!?"

            "Just… just finish the report." The mood swings were becoming wearying… and a little disconcerting.

            "No!  I've already done more than half the work!  The rest is yours."

            Malfoy was breathing heavily, obviously restraining himself from strangling her.  "Just a second ago, you were acting like you'd do anything I said.  I think that's a healthier attitude than the way you're acting now!"

            "I don't know what got into me," Hermione stated in an offhand sort of way.  "But I'm leaving now.  Give me back my wand."

            "Tell me, Granger," He ignored the request, bouncing the wand in the palm of his hand.  "What's going on?  You seem to be losing interest in your Harry Potter worshipping today."

            "It's none of your business…"

            "Did somebody beat me to casting a useful curse on you, or what?"

            She had been worrying about that very possibility.  Harry and Ron hadn't been very helpful about it either.  In fact, they had just seemed impatient with her.  "I don't know."

            "You don't know?" Draco looked amused.  "Well, you've got a lot of enemies, what with being such a bloody know-it-all and everything.  Could have been _anybody_, couldn't it?"

            She studied the linoleum quietly, trying to remember if anybody in the school had been particularly upset with her lately.  "Um…"

            "But why mood swings?" He was studying the possibilities as well.  "That's sort of… unreliable.  If _I_ had cursed you, it would have been something more predictable."

            "Well, then they made a mistake, didn't they?" She held out her hand for the wand.  "As it is, I'm still in control of myself."

            Malfoy suddenly seemed to think of something.  Something he thought was great.  "You stupid mudblood!  You did it to yourself, didn't you?"

            "What?"

            "Too dumb to notice the pattern?"

            "_What_!?" She was indeed feeling dumb.

            He shook his head.  "This morning when you yelled at Potter… and then at the store… and of course just now.  Every time I…"

            The realization dawned on Hermione.  "Get _away_ from me!" She tried to make a desperate bolt for the door.

            "No you don't!" He had her by the wrist before she had barely begun running.  "Not going to let an opportunity like this go to waste."

            "Ha~rry!  Ro~n!" She screamed desperately.  This was a lot worse than having her eyebrows plucked.

            "Forget about them." Draco ran a hand through her hair with deliberation.  "And _do_ the assignment."

            Her resistance faded.  "Okay," She had tears in her eyes from the screaming.  "Whatever you say."

            Hermione:  (distractedly wipes moisture from her eyes)  There!  Conflict!  And I'm only just getting started!  See, it's not just enough to have them do the projects.  Even Harry and Ron are going to run into some conflicts during their deceptively simple pr-

            Ron:  (comes running)  What's the matter!?

            Hermione:  (shocked)  Why'd _you_ come back?

            Ron:  You were screaming!

            Hermione:  What?

            Ron:  You were yelling for Harry and me!  I thought you were getting _killed_!

            Hermione:  I… wasn't screaming, Ron.

            Ron:  (irritated)  Yes, you were!  I could hear it all the way from the dorms.

            Hermione:  (equally irritated)  Probably daydreaming.

            Ron:  Then why are you crying?

            Hermione:  (realizes her eyes are wet)  Er… I… I guess you're right.

            Ron:  What happened?

            Hermione:  I guess I just really got into the writing.  I must have been saying it out loud… I'm sorry.

            Ron:  (exhales)  I thought I was going to come in here and find you dead or something!  I had this idea in my head that Miss Unoriginality turned out to be a psychopathic killer, and that I shouldn't have left you all alone.

            Hermione:  (smiles a _tiny_ bit)  She's just not creative enough to come up with that!  Murders are too interesting.

            Ron:  Interesting!?  Do you have any idea how I would have _felt_ if you were…

            Hermione:  (guilty)  Relieved?

            Ron:  Hermione, no!

            Hermione:  Well, at least you wouldn't have me screaming in the common room in the middle of the night…

            Ron:  If the alternative were finding you _dead_, I'd rather have you screaming in the common room _every_ night!  (goes as red as his hair)  Er… that wasn't supposed to sound like that.

            Hermione:  (bites her lip)  I take it back.  Viktor and I have _never_ had such… 'interesting'… conversations.

            Ron:  I'm not _trying_ to be 'interesting,' I hope you know.

            Hermione:  Well… that just leads to more conflicts doesn't it?  (points at her new chapter)  I'm writing about it, you see.

            Ron:  (sheepish)  Want some help?

            Hermione:  Yeah.

            Ron:  (confident again)  Great!  Then we can write about the part where Ron Weasley has Hermione screaming in the Gryffindor common room!

            Hermione:  You're bordering between 'interesting' and 'insolent' now.

            Ron:  It's a misunderstanding, Hermione!  Nothing's more conflicting than a misunderstanding.

            Hermione:  (hesitates)  That's… true.  You'd better not be trying to trick me, or something.

            Ron:  Wouldn't _think_ about it!  Now show me what you've written while I was gone!

            Hermione:  Here.

            Ron:  (reads)  Hmm.  I would've come at this part, you know.

            Hermione:  You couldn't hear me!  You're at the movies!

            Ron:  Oh yeah!  Back to that:

            "Did you just hear Hermione scream?" Ron whispered, tearing his attention from the war film.

            Harry shook his head, munching popcorn.  "It's just the movie."  His statement was backed up as a bunch of soldiers onscreen screamed.  "See?"

            "I dunno…" Ron turned back to the show.  "Just got a bad feeling… like she's being assaulted by some creep, or something."

            "Whoa, that was cool," Harry observed as the star of the movie pulled some ridiculous stunt off.

            Hermione:  (cracking up)  I love the fact that you're psychic now, and Harry's just… oblivious.

            Ron:  What's new?

            Hermione:  Well if anything, it's the other way around, but please continue.

            Ron:  You wouldn't know, since you dropped out of Divination, would you?  I might be _very_ psychic:

            Ron suddenly had a teacup in his hands.  He swished the tea around, and then dumped it out so he could read the leaves.

            "Hey!" The people sitting in the row in front complained as the tea flowed beneath their shoes.

            "Sorry, but this is important!" Ron peered into the mug hopefully.

            "Stop doing magic!" Harry hissed.  "Besides, you can't see that thing in here; it's too dark!"

            "I've gotta know!" He persisted, turning the cup every so often to get a different angle.  "Oh no!"

            Harry dropped his popcorn at the cry.  "What!?  Is something wrong?"

            "See these leaves here?" Ron pointed.  "And these here?  That says Hermione got eaten by a giant shark!"

            "Be quiet!" Some moviegoers demanded.

            "We're not _by_ any sharks," Harry retrieved the popcorn that wasn't ruined.  "You're having some kind of weird panic attack!"

            Hermione:  Okay, or you're _not_ so psychic…

            Ron:  Just wait:

            "Okay, maybe it's not sharks, but I _know_ it's something!" Ron suddenly had his crystal ball out.

            "Put that light out!" Some other patrons yelled.

            Harry looked mortified.  "_Ron_!  We're going to get _caught_!"

            "But look at this little swirling fog right here!" In excitement at the revelations in the crystal ball, Ron leapt to his feet.

            "Down in front!"

            "_Harry_!" Ron exclaimed.  "_Look_ at this!"

            Harry had to stand up to look in the crystal.  A few people threw popcorns that stuck in his hair.  "I don't _see_ it!  Will you sit back down?"

            "Would somebody shut those kids _up_!?"

            "It's…" Ron concentrated.  "It's…"

            "Sit _down_!"

            "Aw man… it's only Medina Meridian." He finally sat back down.  "And it's not Hermione at all.  Parvati's having a pretty rough time, though."

            Hermione:  Oh, that was clever.

            Ron:  Yeah, I know.

            Hermione:  Anyway:

            Later, when the film was over, Harry and Ron left, ignoring some nasty looks the other patrons shot at them.

            "That was really great!" Ron was very excited now.  "Let's see it again!"

            "Again?" Harry threw the empty popcorn and Jr. Mint boxes away.  "But we've already done enough research to finish our assignment."

            "So?  I missed like five minutes of the middle!"

            "So did everybody else." Harry grumbled.  "You were being louder than the missiles in the movie!"

            Ron didn't look fazed.  "Come on, Harry!"

            "Oh… all _right_." Harry wasn't ready to go back to the hotel, anyway.  He walked up to the ticket booth again and opened the wallet.  "Hey…"

            "What?" Ron noted a distressed tone in Harry's voice.

            "Oh, if it isn't the kid who doesn't know what money is again," The ticket-taker recognized them.

            Harry held the wallet open.  "There's no money left!  Funny… there seemed to be plenty still after we bought the Jr. Mints!"

            "Were we robbed!?"

            "Probably just mistook some lint for cash," The ticket-taker said insultingly.

            Ron fumed at her.  "I'm _foreign_.  Okay?"

            "You speak pretty great English, then." She responded drolly.

            Harry held up a hand.  "Just a second." He and Ron walked a few yards away to discuss their unexpected poverty.

            "So what happened, Harry?"

            "Maybe," Harry wondered as he shook the wallet upside down.  Nothing fell out.  "Maybe it's enchanted."

            "A practical joke!?"

            "No.  Maybe the money runs out after we complete our assignment?"

            Ron seemed to realize how inconvenient this was.  "How are we supposed to get into the theme park now?"

            "I don't know." Harry felt disappointed, too.  "Let's just get back to the inn and answer all the assignment questions."

            "Homework?" Ron pointed up and down the street.  "_Harry_!  There's a thrill ride _that_ way, and you want us to go _this_ way to do _homework_?  You're talking like Hermione!"

            "Well, we can't just sneak into the theme park.  We'd get caught," Harry sniffled.  "And besides, it's illegal."

            "What a holiday.  Fine then, let's go do _homework_…"

            Ron:  Hey!  I wanted them to ride the coaster!

            Hermione:  Don't worry, they will.

            Ron:  But they're broke!  Just for once, couldn't I be rich?

            Hermione:  I'm glad you feel that way!  That means I'll be keeping the story-Ron in character later on.

            Ron:  I _hate_ being poor…

            Hermione:  Cheer up.  The story's not over yet.

            Unoriginality:  Does that mean there's still time for _me_ to chip in then?

            Ron & Hermione:  (groan)

            Unoriginality:  Okay… if the story's not over yet, let's try _this_:

            And soo, as thy wre wlking beck, Hrrry ccidently steped in front of an bus and woz brutilley kild and Ron woz lik "noooo!" and Hary woz lik "splaaaaaat!" and they al attended hiz fooneral and woz saddned but then sudnly Ron relized hiz amazing luv fr Medina and they-

            Ron:  (speaking quickly)  Let me guess.  They got married, had a million kids and were dirt poor, right?

            Unoriginality:  Actually, they were quite comfortably rich, but other than that… yeah.  And also:

            Nd off cours, Hermonee reelzed hur amazng luv fr Ron but it wuz all tooo late and she wuz tragikly mizerble that she hadn spake sooner.  The end.

            Hermione:  So I was tragically miserable, eh?

            Unoriginality:  (wipes a tear from her eye)  I just love angst fics!

            Ron:  Too bad, Hermione.  Shame you didn't speak up earlier about that amazing love you have for me.

            Hermione:  (cross)  Oh, ha ha.  I just pity Medina _Weasley's_ married life.

            Unoriginality:  You don't like it again?  Let's try this, you guys:

            But actooly, thts not exactivally hoow ti hppned.  Actooly, Herminone stealed Ron from Medina and they hd a zillon kds and wre married and luved eich uther amazingly!  The end.

            Hermione:  Had a zillion kids, were married, and loved each other.  Hmm.  Hopefully not in that order, right?

            Ron:  Or not at _all_…

            Hermione:  (looks offended)

            Unoriginality:  You people are never satisfied!  _Obviously_ Hermione was on the rebound from her amazing love for Harry, but since he died, she took the first person she saw!  It's really romantic, eh?

            Ron:  (looks offended)

            Hermione:  Um… let's try to turn this fiasco into something productive…


	7. Lesson 7 The Personalities

**Lesson 7: Be Kind (Do Not Step On The Characters)**

            Hermione:  Okay, sprouting authors!  You've probably all had some practice writing disclaimers at the top of your shiny fics, right?  What do these disclaimers say?  (yells sharply)  Ron!?

            Ron:  (yelps)  What?

            Hermione:  What do disclaimers say?

            Ron:  Uh… please don't sue me?

            Hermione:  NO!  Well… kinda.  But actually, they point out to the reading public that they do _not_ own the material of which they are writing.  Case in point, they don't own the characters.  Although I suppose you can do any fool thing you want in fanfiction, if you want to be successful, I suggest you respect this fact and don't do ridiculous things with other people's creative property.

            Ron:  In other words, don't run Harry over with a bus just for kicks…

            Hermione:  Don't get me wrong.  If you're hell bent on killing somebody off, then by all means, do it.  It's my opinion that you should put some thought into said death scene and let them bite it with dignity, though.

            Ron:  (gulps)  Are we going to have to give them an example?

            Hermione:  Hm… not yet.  Just something for the authors to think about.

            Ron:  In that case, I'm going to fix this:

            Harry shook Ron violently.  "What's the matter!?"

            "Huh?" Ron shook his head groggily.  "What happened?"

            "All of a sudden you were just standing there with your mouth open!"

            "Oh." Ron looked at the passing cars on the street, which sparked a memory.  "Oh yeah!  I think I just had a vision!"

            "What kind of a vision?"

            "First… _you_ got hit by a bus!"

            Harry blinked.  "This 'vision' reminds me of Trelawny's classes already."

            "And then we were all at your funeral, sorry to say.  Then for some reason I was married to that stupid Medina and we had like a billion kids…" He stopped for effect.  "_But_… that turned out to be a vision within my vision, because in the end it was _Hermione_ that I had the kids with and we were making out on your grave!  Bonkers, really…"

            Harry trudged along the London sidewalk slowly, deciding whether to take deep offense at this 'vision' or not.  "You were doing _what_ on my grave?"

            "Oh, you know.  Snogging.  Don't get mad, it wasn't real!"

            Harry was just about to point out a dozen concerns he had with the little daydream but was interrupted when Ron shot his arms around him.  A double-decker bus sped onto the sidewalk drunkenly, missing Harry by an uncomfortable twelve inches.

            The two students watched it drive away, staring stupidly.

            "Was the bus in your vision," Harry breathed.  "A double-decker, driving up the sidewalk?"

            "Yeah…" Ron admitted, releasing Harry shakily.

            "Better pick out a ring, then." Harry smiled weakly.

            Ron backed away from the rest of the traffic.  "What are you talking about?"

            "Because you just _predicted_ the future, and unless you go out of your way to prevent it, you just might be marrying Meridian or Hermione soon."

            Ron glared at him venomously.

            "Don't look at me like that!  _I_ didn't have the vision!" Harry started leading a safer way back to the hotel.  "But if you don't mind, could you refrain from behaving indecently on my grave… just in case?"

            Hermione:  Well, I admit that clears up Miss Unoriginality's mess, but where did all that… _snogging_ come from?

            Ron:  (shrugs)  Unoriginality started it!  But it was _my_ vision, so it can be whatever I want it to be, right?

            Hermione:  No it _can't_!  That's what this lesson is all about!  You just abused the Hermione character!

            Ron:  (tries not to laugh)  She wasn't complaining at the time.  In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself!

            Hermione:  (turning blue)  No she wasn't!  She uh… she hated it!

            Ron:  You're wrong.  I'll prove it:

            Vision flashback:  Harry's grave.  A sad, lonely scene with that cliché stray wind blowing autumn leaves across an inscription that reads: 'The Boy Who Lived… Hey Wait A Minute!'  Yes, a perfectly solemn moment indeed.

            Until of course the newly wed Weasleys showed up and Hermione started perfectly well enjoying-

            Hermione:  If you value your _nose_, I wouldn't finish that flashback.

            Ron:  It's just a joke you know!

            Hermione:  It's not funny!  It goes against every principle I've been trying to teach today!

            Unoriginality:  I like it.

            Ron & Hermione:  (shout)  What are _you_ still doing here?!?

            Unoriginality:  Geeze, get a grip.  (departs)

            Ron:  Where were we?  Oh yeah.  What _difference_ does it make, seeing as it's just a flashback of a vision in a _fanfic_?  It's removed _three_ times from reality when you look at it that way.

            Hermione:  (fuming)  It makes a difference because _I_ don't like it!

            Ron:  We just went over this, and you clearly _do_:

            "Hey!" Said Ron, fending off a frantically affectionate Hermione so he could read Harry's gravestone.  "The boy who lived… well, until that _bus_, anyway."

            "Ron, come _on_!" Hermione tugged on his arm.  "You're not giving me any attention, and I very plainly _enjoy_ it when you do!"

            Hermione:  (calm expression)

            Ron:  Uh oh… er… it was only a joke!  I was just messing with you, you know?

            Hermione:  (serene expression)

            Ron:  Well… _say_ something!

            Hermione:  (detached expression)

            Ron:  Awh, don't give me the _silent_ treatment…

            Hermione:  I'm going to do much worse than that, Ronald Weasley.

            Ron:  Like what?

            Hermione:  Kill you.

            Ron:  (laughs meekly)  Very funny.

            Hermione:  Consider yourself a marked man.  I'll see to it that it's very painful and slow.  And believe me, I'll keep my word.

            Ron:  (bemused)  We both know you wouldn't kill me, Hermione…

            Hermione:  I wouldn't be so sure.  Turns out I'm _full_ of surprises:

            "So how do you suggest we get a hold of some money, Harry?" Ron asked, taking a few cautious steps backwards any time a car drove by.  "I mean… there's no possible chance we might ask your uncle…"

            "No." Harry said simply.  "I think we'd probably ending up _owing_ money if we mentioned the theme park in front of him.  This is the hotel, isn't it?"

            "Oh yeah."

            The students cruised indoors gratefully; relieved to be out of the path of the less than healthy traffic they had been experiencing.

            "Hey, maybe one of the other kids' wallets isn't empty yet?" Ron suggested they head for the meeting area.

            "Or maybe one of them has an allowance like Dudley." Harry agreed, making his way up the stairs and through the halls searching for room number 404.

            In the end, room 404 stood rather conspicuously, emitting the noise from a crowd of people that couldn't have reasonably fit into the suite within.  The interior was just as mind-boggling.  There was a cluster of students strewn about within, discussing difficult assignment questions, comparing notes, writing homework, or just relaxing.

            "Okay!" Ron responded to the success of finding so many students by clapping his hands.  "Who do you think wants to give us money?"

            "Good question." Harry scanned the room without feeling very hopeful.  "There's Hermione anyway…" His jaw dropped mid-sentence.

            "Where?" Ron followed Harry's spellbound gaze.  "_What_!?" He responded with the same confounded expression.  "That's gotta be somebody else!"

            It was an unfounded hope.  Hermione was seated on an ugly purple colored couch across the room, wand held casually in one hand.  The disturbing aspect of this scene was the unusually near proximity of Draco Malfoy, his arm slung behind her shoulder possessively.

            "I don't get it." Harry's words came out more like a question.

            Ron's response wasn't nearly so neutral.

            Ron: Ooo, I foresee violence!  Can I write it?

            Hermione: Only if there are no explosions or fist fights.

            Ron: What about a _little_ explosion and a thumb war?

            Hermione: I don't think so.  I'm saving the rest of the explosions for Medina.  Even the little ones.

            Ron: Shucks:

            "I'm going to _kill_ him!" Ron snarled.

            Hermione: No.  No killing.

            Ron: Darn:

            "I'm going to _wallop_ him!"

            Hermione: No walloping.

            Ron: You're making this _really_ hard:

            "I'm going to… to… _talk_ to that jerk in a really angry way!"

            Ron: That better?

            Hermione: (amused)  I think I'll allow it.

            Ron: Hmph:

            "Me too!" Harry decided.  "But… um… _talking_?"

            Ron shrugged.  "It's going to be really _mean_ talking."

            They both marched over to the ugly, purple couch determinedly.  Hermione and Draco looked up, seeming pleased with their arrival.  Ron halted suddenly before them and raised a pointer finger, red-faced.  "…"

            Ron: Quick, what's something _really_ mean to say?

            Hermione: It's your turn to write.  Coming up with clever phrases is part of the job.

            Ron: Okay:

            The moment lasted for a moment.  Ron stood, wavering between a slew of challenges, and the unlikely couple on the couch waiting impatiently for somebody to say something.

            Finally settling on some words, Ron spoke. "Let her go, you dork!"

            Hermione: (cracking up)  You _dork_?

            Ron: (sullen)  I couldn't come up with anything…

            Hermione: It's not very quotable, is it?

            Ron: It was either that or 'idiot.'

            Hermione: Hmmm.  Well there is always the editing process.  Maybe we'll catch it then?

            Ron: This writing stuff is hard sometimes:

            Malfoy waited a moment to let Harry and Ron begin to feel unsure about the situation.  "Why?"

            "We're not going to stand for you threatening her all the time." Harry said firmly.  "Just leave her alone already!"

            "Yeah, you dork!" Ron agreed.  "Come on, Hermione, you can out-cast this dork."

            Hermione looked irritated.  "Well of _course. _ How would I ever have thought of that without your _enlightenment_?" She stressed the last word sarcastically and flicked her wand to demonstrate the fact that she was armed.

            Harry began to feel _very_ unsure.  "We can get Hagrid…"

            Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Malfoy.  "Do you think they're under the impression that I _want_ to move?"

            "Don't try to second-guess fools like them." He responded snidely.

            "Of course." Hermione smiled self-consciously and continued to stare at Malfoy with quiet approval.

            "Hermione," Ron was losing his momentum.  "It's alright.  We're here now.  Whatever the dork's threatening you with, we can help!"

            Draco looked confident, patting the back of Hermione's head somewhat degradingly.  "I'm not threatening her.  It just turns out that even _she_ has some uses I hadn't noticed before, and I'm going to keep her around for now."

            "_Uses_!?" Ron jumped.  "What kind of uses are you talking about, you dork?"

            "Whatever kinds I want, it seems." Malfoy squeezed Hermione a few times.  "Right?"

            She seemed delighted by the statement.  "Yes!"

            Ron: That's it.  If you're going through with this, it's up to you.

            Hermione: (smirking)  Wonder why you're acting all cowardly now, after some of the _other_ things you've put in this fanfic:

            "You see, we're getting along quite well." Malfoy said obnoxiously.  He was going to continue speaking to get the most painful result out of Harry and Ron but was interrupted by Hermione's response.

            "You're so cute when you're tormenting people!" She exclaimed, dropping her wand carelessly to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.

            Harry's eyes grew wide behind his glasses.  Hermione had accomplished Malfoy's intent by shocking the Boy Who Lived into stunned silence.  He blinked after a bit, noticing Ron's incensed reaction beside him.  The redhead was near to shaking with fury.

            "Ick!" Malfoy fought Hermione off, looking repulsed.  "Don't ever do that!"

            Hermione seemed obsessed.  "I can't _help_ it!  I wish these Gryffindor losers would get lost so we could just be alone, you know?"

            "Knock that off!" Draco said.  "The last thing I want is some disgusting half-breed slobbering on me like that."

            Ron considered the use of many forms of violent recourse, but remembered the crowd they were in.  "Well if _you_ don't want her, we'd like to have her back.  _Now_, you dork!"

            Ron: Woohoo!  I knew there wasn't a romance in this fic!

            Hermione: Huh?  What do you mean by that?

            Ron: Well, you're just under some fouled up spell, and Malfoy still hates the sight of you, so all is right with the world.

            Hermione: (rereads the last few pages)  Oh… you're right.  (looks frustrated)  So does that mean I've failed to create a pairing at _all_!?

            Ron: Oh well, too bad.  Just change it and have Viktor show up and beat the living crud out of Malfoy and everything will be peachy.

            Hermione: No… no, that's not the solution.  I've seen this pairing pulled off before.  (becomes introspective)  Where did I go wrong?

            Ron: (shrugs)  I guess you just took the copywrite thing too seriously and didn't take enough creative license.  I've been _telling_ you we didn't have enough explosions.

            Hermione: Creative license… creative license…  You've _completely_ got something there!  Of course!  This is a _fanfic_!

            Ron: (encouraged)  Yeah!  Boom, boom, boom, kaplooie, zappo!  What do you want to blow up first?

            Hermione: (distracted)  But… if I'm not going to use my original outline… I'm not sure how to do this…

            Ron: What, blow stuff up?  It's easy!

            Hermione: I'm not talking about that!  I'm talking about this pairing but I'm not an expert on just making things up as I go.  Hey, why don't you do it?

            Ron: (harrumphs)  I've washed my hands clean of that part of the story, but do call me if you need something demolished.

            Hermione: Well if you won't do it, and I _can't_, then who…

            Ron: (thinks)  We need somebody who can improvise…

            Ron & Hermione: (look at each other with realization)

            Hermione: Wow… I never thought it would come to this.  (cups hands to mouth)  Miss Unoriginality, where are you!?


	8. Lesson 8 The Writer's Block

Lesson 8: It's Called A Brainstorm 

Hermione: Today's lesson revolves around one of the most common ailments of working authors today. Namely, the frustrating occurrence of becoming stuck with your writing, and not knowing where to turn. When faced with this situation, a writer must actively do _something_ to move the process along.

Ron: For example, Elly got stuck while writing the ending of her Lord of the Rings fic and started focusing on _this_ project to try to get things moving again.

Hermione: It worked. The Rings fic was completed and is posted on the Net and everything. Ironic thing is, now _we_ got stuck in this one.

Ron: But there's hope!

Hermione: Right. You can follow in Elly's less than epic footsteps and chase a plot bunny around the block until you get your senses back for the original project, but that may lead to complete distraction and you run the risk of falling in love with the plot bunny, never to return to the first fic again.

Ron: (worried) What's a plot bunny, and why would you fall in love with it?

Hermione: Oh, get with the _lingo_! A plot bunny is one of those nagging story ideas that you haven't bothered to write down yet. The problem is, they tend to make authors get carried away with them.

Ron: Oh. Case in point, this fic amasses more wordage than the Rings fic that spawned it.

Hermione: Exactly. Anyway, I am going to suggest an alternative to running with a plot bunny and that is called a brainstorm.

Ron: Like one of those soggy things that keep you from going outdoors?

Hermione: Not funny. A _brain_storm is the process of accumulating as many ideas as possible. Write them down as you think of them whether they seem workable or not. Focus on quantity and variety, not quality.

Ron: (snickers) And now may I introduce our personal spokeswoman for quantity and variety, though _rarely_ quality, an authoress who could _never_ tell the difference between a plot and a stream of consciousness, Miss Unoriginality!

Unoriginality: (bows) Thank you. I feel so loved.

Hermione: So here's the plan, Unoriginality. We need you to share _any_ ideas you might have about getting the pairing in this fic back on track. It just isn't working the way it is. There isn't any… _chemistry_ between our couple…

Unoriginality: That's because you're not _letting_ Malfoy like Hermione.

Ron: That's called keeping a character _in_ character…

Hermione: No Ron, don't interrupt her. We need her to just go with the brainstorm. Please continue.

Unoriginality: You only have to find _one_ thing the couple likes about being together, and you're set! You see examples of that in fanfics all the time!

Hermione: I see… I never even established an _initial_ comfort zone despite all my carefully laid out charts. I have to blame this on my inexperience with writing romance. So… what should the _one_ thing be?

Ron: How about their ecstasy at getting as far away as possible from one another?

Hermione: Ron, _try_ to be open-minded. Tell us more.

Unoriginality: Sure. They're probably going to just get _used_ to being around each other, so when the spell wears off you need some reason why they dislike each other _less_ than before. Maybe the common interest of not getting caught by the Ministry for doing illegal magic?

Hermione: Oh pay attention, the real brainstorm is heating up!

Unoriginality: Maybe some kind of mutual respect for magic proficiency? Maybe Malfoy could realize that Hermione is more intelligent company than he's used to, and be a little nicer because of it? Maybe you could invent some kind of crisis, and the only way to get out of it is to let the spell wear off and work together?

Hermione: (shocked) Miss Unoriginality… I'm really impressed that you came up with all that!

Unoriginality: Thanks! I saved the best for last, though. What you should _really_ do is have them find out what a great kisser the other is, get them to set a date, and describe the marriage in all its pristine glory! (gets stars in her eyes)

Ron: I know you're not supposed to rule any ideas out during a brainstorm, but that one has _got_ to be flushed.

Hermione: Not really. I think I can use _all_ of that to move this fic along.

Unoriginality: (proud) What would you guys do without me?

Ron: Well, we wouldn't have gotten in touch with our unoriginal sides, that's for sure. Who knew madness had a practical application?

Hermione: Let's make progress:

"No, I'll keep her around, _thanks_." Malfoy responded to Ron's request irritably. "Which means you can go away now!"

Ron smashed a fist into his palm, but made a rare, intelligent call and didn't start anything in front of the crowd. "We'll be back."

Harry frowned and retreated, a determined look on his face.

"Good job!" Hermione said when they were out of hearing range. "You're so commanding!"

Malfoy groaned. "Would you stop that? Your… _compliments_… are freaking me out."

"But you're the most intimidating student in our year!"

"Shut up."

"See? Just like that! You put fear into everybody's hearts! It's so incredible…"

"I said _shut_ up! Damn, I think I like you better the _other_ way."

Unoriginality: Oh, there you go.

Hermione: Yeah. I'm _still_ not sure how to get him to let her go, though…

Ron: You sure wrote yourself into a corner, didn't you? I've been warning you all along! You didn't listen.

Hermione: We would have been in _just_ as much trouble if I'd let you blow up everything you'd _wanted_ to. This challenge is part of the process.

Unoriginality: When I get to a hard part, I just skip it and hope nobody notices…

Hermione: Uh… okay. We're not going to do that, though. We're going to work through this.

Unoriginality: (shrugs) Suit yourself, but this fic is so long… I'd have ended it by now.

Ron: I'm not surprised:

"No Harry, there's something _magical_ going on! It's a curse, or some kind of poison. We need to investigate." Ron paced across the Gryffindor room. He had his wand tucked under one arm and an expression that indicated he was ready to use it.

"Something happened while they were working on that project." Harry nodded. "We need to retrace their steps or something."

Ron looked pleased. "That's the ticket."

"We'll start by asking Hagrid." Harry said reasonably. "Let's go."

Reentering the common suite was an uncomfortable affair. Ron refused to do anything but glare at the occupants of the ugly purple couch, despite the fact that this stubborn viewpoint was causing him to bump into things as he walked through the room. Harry adopted a different strategy and tried not to look at all, but that resulted in a few collisions as well. This display attracted laughs from a lot of the students, and a duo of confounded expressions from the ugly purple couch.

"That didn't go so well." Harry pushed his glasses up his nose self-consciously. He knocked on Hagrid's door hard, impatient to get out of sight of the rest of the room.

After a delayed rustling from the other side of the door and some kind of great thudding noise, Hogwart's resident giant opened the door for the two. "Oh! What're you two needin'?"

"We need to consult." Harry said pushily, practically forcing himself into the room. "Close the door, Ron."

After one last particularly poisonous glance at the ugly, purple couch, Ron complied and slammed the door shut behind them.

"What's this all about?" Hagrid said almost as if he was impatient to get back to something they had interrupted.

"Where did Hermione and Malfoy go for their report?" Harry asked intently. "Something… happened!"

"Something bad." Ron elaborated.

"Yeah, something _rotten_!" Harry concluded.

Hagrid scratched his large head sluggishly. "Those two? Well… let's see…" He turned to a stack of what must have been the few projects already completed. "They had the drug store! Looks like a good job on the homework…"

"A _drug_ store!" Ron shouted. "That explains it! There must have been some kind of wicked potion for sale and Hermione found herself on the receiving end… dastardly!"

Harry blinked. "It's a good theory, but muggle drug stores don't _carry_ wicked potions. It must have been something else. What else is there, Hagrid?"

Hagrid shrugged. "I don't know what ter tell ya… they jus' turned this work and camera in, an' that's all I know."

"Camera?"

"'Parently, it was a part of the assignment."

Harry held out his hands. "Can we have that? Maybe if we get the film developed, we can figure all of this out!"

"But it's part of the assignment and grade! What's this big problem, anyhow?"

The students glanced at each other gloomily. When it came down to it, their dilemma was difficult to put into words.

"Well," Harry said mournfully. "You see… Hermione and Malfoy are… getting along or something!"

"The horror!" Ron added.

"It's unnatural!" Harry intoned persuasively.

"And disgusting!" Ron moaned.

"Dunno 'bout that." Hagrid shrugged again. "What's so bad about two people gettin' along, now?"

"What?" Harry stormed. "You don't understand. It's not just unlikely, it's _impossible_! Hagrid, I need to see that camera whether it's been turned in for a grade or _not_! Don't you trust us?"

Hagrid seemed to consider the plea before realizing that if he just handed the camera over the argument would be over. That seemed appealing to him for some reason. "Oh all righ', but don't let nobody know…"

Ron snatched the clue possessively. "Oh don't worry, we won't. This is just between us."

"Let's go." Harry cracked his knuckles decisively. "I noticed a one-hour photo developer on the same street the theatre's on."

Hermione: (delighted) Progress! You see, authors? If you just keep on at it, progress is inevitable!

Unoriginality: (scandalized) What exactly _is_ on the film?

Ron: Uh… yeah? What is it?

Hermione: (intellectually) It's a mystery.

Unoriginality: Is it… scandalous? What kind of rating do you have on this fic, anyway?

Hermione: You people… This isn't that kind of fic! Besides, Elly has posted this as PG-13, so just you watch it!

Ron: So you're saying I could ruin everything by saying-

Hermione: (interrupts) No! No swearing! We want to keep this fic accessible and having a PG-13 rating is more conducive to that goal!

Unoriginality: (confused) I wasn't suggesting there were swear words on the film…

Hermione: I understand that, but my point _is_ that there is no _content_ like that in this fic! Got it?

Unoriginality: (sniffles)

Hermione: _Seriously_! You don't have to act _disappointed_! Let's keep this fic rolling in the right direction, shall we:

Another trek through the perils of the common room, several sidewalks, and a few near-misses by some distracted cabs later, Harry and Ron had deposited the film at the one-hour photo lab, and paid for its development with some coins Hagrid had spared them. He had been quick to part with the money and shove the students out the door, but that odd behavior wasn't on their minds at the moment.

"One hour, now." Ron practically scolded the lab's employee. "We're holding you to that, because we _need_ this developed as soon as possible."

"Like it says on the door," The employee said blandly. "One hour."

"We're holding you to that!" Ron insisted. "If it even takes sixty-_one_ minutes, I demand a refund!"

Harry frowned. "Well, having said that, we'll be back in an hour. Come on, Ron."

They exited the lab, somewhat sulky now that there was nothing to do but wait.

"Why were you giving that technician such a hard time?" Harry asked, keeping a keen eye on a stray bus that cruised past.

Ron shrugged. "Well, it's _their_ policy. Everybody here seems so lazy, I figured they might not get the job done on time, and then we could get our money back."

"It's not even _our_ money…"

"Yeah…" Ron shrugged again, looking especially sheepish. "But anything we can scrape together to get into that theme park is worth the haggling, right?"

"_That_ again…" Harry sighed, picking a directionless path down London's streets. "Can't that wait until we've saved Hermione?"

"If we keep putting it off, then when _will_ we find the time?"

"You're worried about _time_? We seem to have plenty of time on our hands at the moment."

This idea seemed enlightening to Ron, who promptly stopped the aimless wandering and arrested Harry's attention with a spark in his eyes. "Then why not now? We can't possibly do anything to help Hermione for another _hour_ at least! That's plenty of time to sneak into the theme park, stand in line, ride the roller coaster, and get back here. It's _brilliant_, Harry! We should do it!"

"Sneak in? I don't know… maybe we should keep an eye out at the hotel?"

"Oh right… let's compare the two plans then." Ron put on a sarcastically deductive expression. "Stay at the hotel and watch an infuriating scene of magically influenced affection unfold on the ugliest purple couch this side of London… or take a golden opportunity to have a little fun on this otherwise frustrating day. Hm. I can see where you're having a hard time choosing, but I think one of those options ousts the other a bit now."

Harry made an effort to stop his eyes from spinning at that semi-rant. "Your option has 'bad idea' written all over it…"

"Never had a bad idea that didn't turn out to be at least a little fun. Are you coming, or what?"

Ron: I can't believe it… _you_ actually decided to let them go to the theme park. You're not as whole-heartedly cruel as I thought!

Hermione: (harrumphs) This was my plan from the beginning. You just never bothered to study the plot pyramid!

Ron: Oh is _that_ what was on that parchment? I threw that away ages ago.

Hermione: _Ron_! The entire plot's on that pyramid! I _need_ it!

Unoriginality: You need it to write a fic?

Hermione: (distraught) Yes! I need to keep my ideas organized!

Unoriginality: I've never used anything like that…

Ron: Just loosen up, would you? Writing fanfiction doesn't need to be such a traumatizing experience.

Hermione: (wails) My plot pyramid!!__

_Elly: Next up, the infamous roller coaster we've all been waiting for! Some loose ends are going to suddenly start tying up as well so stay tuned. I promise a… 'prompter' update than the last one. --;; Don't be mad, all! I had a ca-ra-zy work/school schedule, and writer's block to boot. I promise to be better!_


	9. Lesson 9 The Continuity

**Chapter 9: Remember That Thing We Mentioned WAAAAY Back When?**

Ron: Fine, here's your grubby old parchment. (hands Hermione the battered plot pyramid)

Hermione: (hugs it) Thank goodness! And _you_! Stop chucking my important documents!

Ron: It looked like a worthless doodle.

Hermione: I _told_ you what it was!

Ron: It _sounded_ like a worthless doodle, too.

Hermione: You have no respect for the creative writing process!

Unoriginality: What does this plot pyramid _do_ anyway?

Hermione: (calms down at the prospect to do some lecturing) This specimen of thought and planning helps me to keep everything in the story tied together and making sense. So long as I have my plot pyramid, I don't forget the little things, and it will appear to the readers that everything was building up to one ultimate result.

Unoriginality: Everything?

Hermione: Yes, everything. In _my_ estimation, every single word in a fic should build up to the conclusion, and I had it all planned on the pyramid… but then _you_ guys showed up.

Ron: You're welcome.

Unoriginality: Any time.

Hermione: (growls) Yeah, thanks a _ton_. It's been a roller coaster ride with you two chipping in.

Ron: Speaking of which… three cheers for the Colossus Cruiser! We should have put that in a _long_ time ago.

Hermione: No, my timing's perfect, see? (unfolds the plot pyramid and points frantically at the appropriate layer) This way, everything works out!

Ron & Unoriginality: Whatever…

Hermione: You _guys_! Can't you absorb at least a _smidge_ of my lessons? What's the point if you don't learn anything?

Ron: Well, the point might be to actually have some fun, but I _have_ been listening. Just not all that well.

Hermione: Well it's _your_ missed opportunity to glean some applicable _knowledge_!

Unoriginality: What's applicable mean?

Ron: Go ask your mother. Anyway, back to the fic:

"This is _not_ going to work." Harry hissed, peering at the gate from behind a rather pointy bush. "And if, by some miracle, this deceit _does_ work, never tell _anyone_."

"Deal. Now make a bolt for it!"

Harry and Ron made a comic dash for the theme park's wall, attempted a Jackie Chan 'bounce from the wall to a tree to the top of the wall' maneuver, and ended up flat on their butts, no closer to the interior of the park than before. This is always what happens when people try to be like Jackie Chan, and seriously, who hasn't tried at least once?

"Told you…" Harry groaned. "That has got to be the worst plan ever."

"Hey, I didn't hear any brilliant schemes coming from you." Ron recovered from the fall with ease, crossing his arms across his sweater moodily.

"Yes, you did. My scheme was to not commit a crime today."

"Oh, just be quiet…" Ron suddenly froze. "Shhh! Somebody's coming!"

"Harry?" A familiar voice asked meekly. Parvati approached the ruined martial artists curiously, Medina and a young Gryffindor in tow. "What are you guys doing here?"

Harry frowned, dusting some grass off his pant leg. "Oh, nothing. How about yourself?"

"Just came to pick up my friend's younger brother when we heard the strangest crashing sound." Parvati said. "Was that you?"

"It was a frightful fright!" Medina put in sweetly. "It sounded like somebody falling out of a tree, or the like!"

Ron tried to look incredibly innocent. "Now why would we be making crashing sounds?" The innocence came off as incredible lying.

"Maybe you're trying to jump over the wall and sneak into the theme park?" Parvati suggested casually.

Harry groaned again. "Guess you're not the only psychic one, Ron."

"So… so you were!" Medina gasped. "That's a _crime_! We're supposed to be on our heavenly best behavior!" She shook her finger at them ferociously.

"We wouldn't be _doing_ it if we had some money to buy our way in legitimately!" Ron edged back as Medina's finger got a bit too close. "Have any to lend us?"

"I don't sponsor criminals." Parvati said blandly. "Uh… Medina, you're going to put somebody's eye out if you keep jabbing that finger around… like earlier, remember? That poor man may never see again!"

"Right." Medina said introspectively. "I just wanted to say that… I may have something that would help you end your outlaw ways." She reached into a pink purse she had at her side (the inscription on the purse read_ Princess_), and rummaged about until she found a small scrap of parchment. "_I_ certainly don't need this since I'm so well off, but I _do_ approve of charitable causes. Good luck." She offered the scrap.

Ron reached for it tentatively, and as soon as his hand got within range, Medina gave a small hiccup and jolted slightly. "Ouch! You went and gave me a paper cut!"

"Oh… so sorry Ron, it was a lamentable accident! Parchment can be very dangerous, you know!"

"Whatever," Ron pouted, resisting the urge to put his cut finger in his mouth. He should have known they wouldn't escape an encounter with Medina unscathed. "What _is_ this, anyway?"

Medina shrugged her shoulders so violently she knocked the young Gryffindor Parvati was escorting off his feet. "Your path to the wealth you seek! At least, that's what it said on the package."

"We have to go," Parvati said desperately, helping her charge back to a standing position. "I want to hide in my room as soon as humanly possible… what a nightmare."

The trio left the way they came. As soon as they were out of sight, an irritated shriek rang out; undoubtedly Parvati's disbelief at yet another clumsy incident of Medina's.

"I'd call them the Three Stooges, but only one of them is a certified Stooge." Ron grumbled. He took his first good look at Medina's offering. "What _is_ this?"

Harry looked over Ron's shoulder. "It's… a map of some kind… of _London_!"

"A treasure map!" Ron said instinctively.

"Oh, grow up." Harry sighed. "Who makes treasure maps anymore?"

"I'm _serious_, Harry! It's a treasure map! See these red Xs on it? X marks the spot for treasure, I'm sure of it!"

Indeed, the map _was_ designed like a treasure map that an old pirate may have carried in the past. There were two red Xs; one with a dollar sign inscribed along with it, and the other with a question mark. There was even a compass symbol indicating North, and a dashed line connecting the two Xs. The theme was completed with a rather badly drawn rendition of a pirate ship.

"What _is_ this?" Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing. Was this some kind of bad prank of Medina's design?

Ron exhaled in a long-suffering way. "One more time, and I'll say it slowly so you can understand: it's… a… treasure… map!"

"I just don't believe that! Why would Medina have something like that, and why would she give it to you?"

"Like she said, she's rich!" The question didn't seem important to Ron. "Here, I think we should check out the one with the dollar sign _now_!"

Unoriginality: Oh boy! Are they going to meet real pirates?

Hermione: (aggravated) There are no pirates in my fic.

Unoriginality: Oh, bummer. You know, including pirates can't help but make it better! Pirates are all the rage, right now!

Hermione: As is reality TV, but that doesn't mean it gets a part in my fic.

Ron: Hey! Survivor: Hogwarts edition. Why hadn't I thought of that before? Contestants could get points for tripping Slytherins in the hallways, and camping on the moving staircases! There could even be a bonus round where people try to sneak stuff out of Snape's collection of potion ingredients… and then dare the other tribe to eat it!

Hermione: You just leave that idea alone! Those reality programs are a waste of mental energy!

Unoriginality: (trying to figure out the plot pyramid for the seventh time… with no luck) I'd say your charts have wasted all the mental energy I started with.


	10. Lesson 10 The Rejection

**Chapter 10: All Good Things Must Come To An End… But Not Because Of Somebody Else's Bad Attitude**

Hermione: Yes, chapter nine was surprisingly short, and there's good reason.

Ron: Oh come on, there's no good reason for the delays and disappointments in the updates for this fic!

Hermione: Well… it's true that this fic seems to be put on permanent hold. I don't want to be held responsible for that, though, and that's why I've invited our most unusual guest yet. Everybody, please say hello to our sponsor, the author, Elly. All tomatoes can be directed at her.

Elly: (arrives) Um… thank you very much. Please no tomatoes, because as I'm about to explain, I'm more fragile than I look.

Hermione: Well, you do have quite a bit of explaining to do! Why have you neglected this fic so much? It's not easy for us all to just wait about for you to come around and do your bit! There are a few people who want to know what happens, you know?

Ron: Yeah! You're lucky anybody's reading it at all!

Elly: (apologetic) That's true. Before I get started, let me extend a _very_ heartfelt thanks to everybody who's supported my writing. I've really appreciated everybody's approval, but found out last year that I have a rather weak stomach for criticism.

Ron: Last year, huh? Coincides with this fic's lack of updates, doesn't it?

Elly: Yep. To make a long story short, I had one of my fics (not this one) posted on somebody's site for the sheer purpose of ridiculing me. Needless to say, I didn't take it very well and all my writing was put to an abrupt, painful halt. My feelings were just too hurt to keep up with the hobby.

Hermione: But… it _is_ just a hobby. Why take it so seriously?

Elly: Let's just say it was really harsh. I cried for a couple days and everything.

Ron: Well, I'm sorry… but you can't let things like that get you down! Everybody has to learn to roll with the punches sometimes. It's part of life.

Hermione: That's right! You call yourself an amateur writer, don't you? Well write! We've been waiting!

Elly: I'm ready to agree with that. At the time, last year, I found myself wondering how I'd ever get over it and move on with my fics. I've decided the only way for me to do that is to keep contributing to the wonderful community I've found online to express all of our imaginations.

Ron: So… any lame promises this time? I remember you made a promise last time that you'd update sooner… and here we are one year later!

Elly: Right. I have no better excuse than to explain that my enthusiasm was thoroughly crushed. At this point, what I really want to do is express my support of all you writers here on and elsewhere, practicing and honing their skills.

I realize that this fic might have come off as being rather preachy and judgmental of other author's writing sometimes, and after what I went through, that's the last thing I _ever_ want to do! Don't take me so seriously… I'm far from perfect and know it all too well.

Hermione: What she's saying is: break all the 'rules' we've been talking about in previous chapters. We're no authority.

Ron: Just aiming for a chuckle from our audience, really.

Elly: Yes, ignore all the rules! Except this one: don't let somebody else knock you down forever. People criticize others to make themselves feel superior… and that's a really lousy reason to go along with them and feel bad about yourself.

Hermione: So is it safe to say you're over it, Elly? Ready to get on with things?

Elly: I'll give it my best, anyway. I'm worried about letting the readers down, but I can't let it stop me anymore. I care about all that feedback I've gotten, and I'm going to try and make the wait worth it.

Ron: All right! She's got the right attitude. Now, stop getting in our way! You hired us to write this one, remember?

Hermione: She hired _me_ alone…

Ron: Two for the price of one! I don't think Elly really would have wanted the _textbook_ approach you had planned, anyway.

Elly: (smiles approvingly) I think everything's in good hands. I apologize for the disruption to the flow of this fic. I'll return now to my true role, orchestrating things from behind the scenes. (begins to fade) I don't know why I ever set this aside! I hope it's as fun for you as it is for me. (is gone)

Ron & Hermione: (look awkward in the sudden loneliness)

Ron: So… where _did_ Unoriginality go, anyhow?

Hermione: (shuffling her quills and paper for lack of anything better to do) Not a clue. I think we're better off without her, myself.

Ron: Just couldn't wait to get some more alone time with me, could ya?

Hermione: (sniffles) It's not that at all! Too many cooks spoil the soup, is what I was getting at! As a matter of fact, this _was_ going to be a solo endeavor originally!

Ron: Ouch… the rejection! But if we're going to learn _anything_ from this lesson, it's that enduring rejection is _essential_ to success, right?

Hermione: Well… yes. That's a fairly good summary, actually…

Ron: Just gotta keep plugging away regardless of being shot down, am I right?

Hermione: (smells a trap) … I suppose…

Ron: Can't let a little thing like having your _heart_ repeatedly ripped out, stomped on, and crushed stop you, you know?

Hermione: Now Ron, you're getting a bit dramatic…

Ron: Think so? Might as well put all that drama to good use then, shouldn't I?

"I agree… this mark's not far from where we are right now, and we do still have a bit of time before picking up that film." Harry said, leaning against the undefeated theme park's walls next to Ron, treasure map spread out on the ground in front of them. "But if there's _any_ chance of finding a _real_ treasure map, the last place I'd expect to find it is from Medina!"

"We both know you're going to go look anyway." Ron sighed. "You know, I could _really_ stand to fall upon some buried treasure? Do you have any idea what a turnaround that'd be for my life?"

Harry rolled up the map and estimated north by the angle of the sun. "Money isn't everything."

"No," Ron looked poignant. "But am I really asking for that much? All I want is robes without holes in them! A wand in one piece! A little respect! All the chocolate frogs I can eat! Attention from some _girls_!"

"Take it easy…" Harry motioned calmingly. "Attention isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Ron followed Harry in search of treasure moodily. "Speaking of girls, they really are all into fame and wealth, aren't they? That's all it really comes down to, isn't it?"

"What are you on about?"

"I'm just saying… girls don't just stare at you because of your charming personality, right? It's your notoriety that does it!"

"I'm trying to decide whether I should be insulted or not…"

"It's true, though! Even Hermione-

Hermione: Wait! Are you going to accuse me of being shallow?

Ron: Oh? This is just the dramatic moment required by all performances worthy of an award of some sort.

Hermione: We're not shooting for any awards… and besides, I think you're just trying to throw the spotlight back on yourself. We need to progress this story:

Ron thought for a moment. "Nah, not Hermione. She's too cool for that."

The two friends marched diligently off to locate the nearest landmark to their 'treasure.'

Ron: Wow… that was surprisingly sloppy for _you_.

Hermione: (ruffled) Well… we'll catch it in the next draft. Eheh.

Ron: We're doing multiple drafts?

Hermione: For the last time: _yes_! Now let's check on our other stars:

Hermione blinked her eyes drowsily for a moment before snapping back to clarity with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She instinctively knew her wand was elsewhere, her friends had left nearly half an hour prior, and upon attempt at movement her wrists proved to be bound. "So what's the plan, then? Going to keep me as a pet? Because you _know_ it won't work!"

"Ah, stuff it." Draco sighed heavily, pitching a few loose pieces of gravel at some pigeons. He had taken Hermione out of the hotel to avoid even more prying into his as of yet undecided upon plan. A peaceful park wasn't exactly the epitome of a lair for a Slytherin, but it was the best he could do in the unfamiliar city. "If you start making a fuss I'll _curse_ you, got it?"

Hermione kept her voice at a regular volume, but the venom was still full force. "I have _perfect_ recollection of what happens when I'm under the spell. You can't keep me under watch forever, and I have friends watching out for me. First chance I get, I'll run and shave myself bald and tell everybody what's happened. Then what will you do? Be kicked out of Hogwarts, I imagine. Your father will be real thrilled with that!"

He raised his hand as if to slap her but lowered it rather than risk activating the spell attached to her hair again. Truth was, taking advantage of the spell in the first place was a bit of a whim, and he hadn't invented an actual use for it yet other than enjoy the ability to control a rival. "Just watch it. You could accidentally go 'missing' during this stinking field trip."

"So why did you let the spell wear off?" She muttered somewhat exhaustedly. How long before an escape presented itself?

"Certainly not to make small talk with the likes of you! Just be quiet, and… and…"

"And you won't hurt me?" Hermione finished the sentence. "Too late for that. Might as well chat your head off, the way _I_ see it. I'm _not_ going to cooperate."

Malfoy looked at her, perplexed. "Um… actually, I can make you cooperate at any time. Why not just calm down and stop making a nuisance of yourself, hm? I've got a lot of thinking to do." How is it that she still was resisting so much?

Hermione watched the pigeons for a while, considering her options in great detail. Any way she looked at it, her situation was bad. After several minutes, she spoke up. "You're in a serious dilemma. You have three options the way I calculate it."

"Fine. Why don't you tell me what they are?"

"One: You wait for me to inevitably escape which could result in me ratting on you to all the wrong people. Two: You arrange my 'demise', which seems too messy for even you. Or three: You let me go and hope for the best. I ruled out memory charms and the like, because that's way beyond you." Her eyes narrowed. "And you don't currently have contact with anybody who could do it _for_ you since we're all but stranded in London."

He glanced at her appraisingly. "Option number two sounds good."

"Please," She huffed. "There are too many people who've seen us acting 'strangely' together. You'd be pegged with the crime in no time."

Ron: Oh great. This fic wasn't called _Catch 22_ the last time I checked.

Hermione: Well… if I don't prove to the readers that I'm being logical, they won't take it seriously!

Ron: You're just writing yourself into a corner again… bad habit, Hermione, you're lucky I'm here to save you:

Hermione smiled. "Or of course, secret option number four: I stall you long enough for Ron to show up and kick the living tar out of you, thus making him 'most datable of his year' and of course crippling you so badly you can't attend school for the rest of the year." She looked distracted. "How dreamy!"

"Huh?" Malfoy stammered. "That could really happen?"

"You bet! And chances are he'll call you a dork again."

Hermione: I thought you weren't writing this part of the story anymore.

Ron: Like Elly said: can't let anything stand in your way… I suppose I could pitch in here and there.

Hermione: (tentative) Then… do you think you could make them fall for each other just a little bit? I just can't seem to do it.

Ron: Hermione! I don't _want_ you with him! Not in the story or anything! I'm not contributing there.

Hermione: Please, Ron… I need the help. We're _sunk_ if this remains as stagnant as it has. I'll hand over some executive decisions to you if you do it… I promise!

Ron: (tempted) You'll make me an official author on this?

Hermione: Yes!

Ron: You'll stop ditching all my ideas?

Hermione: (adamant) It's a promise.

Ron: You'll let me blow up any fool thing that I want?

Hermione: Of course… (hesitates) wait, what was that?

Ron: Too late, we have a deal:

"Oh, scary!" Malfoy shrugged. "You'd think a guy could do better than 'dork,' but whatever."

Hermione grimaced. "Anyway… I suppose weighing the options you have to decide… are you willing to _kill_ me over this?"

"That's _my_ business."

"Draco, are you going to kill me or not? Because if you are, there's half a dozen reports I'll just forget about finishing right now. And I have a last request as well." She raised her chin bravely.

"Can't imagine what sort of dumb thing you'd want as a last request…"

"I want to finish reading the latest edition of _Ancient Runes And You_. I have only about twenty pages to go."

Malfoy flinched. "Are you serious? You want to finish a damn _textbook_ before you die?"

"What else?"

"I… don't know! What do other people request? A particular food? Maybe to see somebody special… accomplish some great thing first…"

Hermione watched the expressions playing over Draco's face as he tried to think of something appropriate. "So should I be bracing myself then?"

"For what?" He seemed to have lost track of the conversation.

"Death of course. Seems like something that requires a certain amount of preparation." She shuddered. "To tell the truth, I'm not in any particular hurry… there aren't a lot of materials to study on the subject so I wouldn't know what to expect."

"Well if you're _that_ concerned, I promise to make it quick and painless."

Her eyes grew large.

"A joke?" He seemed flustered. "I'm not going to _kill_ you, Granger… well, yet… do you think the Ministry is tracking us down as we speak?"

Correctly interpreting the rapid change of topic as nervousness, Hermione couldn't help but feel a pang of camaraderie in the fear of Ministry involvement. "I can't imagine why they wouldn't have caught us already… something's not right with that…"

"It would be… bad if I was mixed up in something like that, understand? What should we do?"

"We?" It was an unexpected term. "_We_ should keep a low profile, of course! We've been attracting too much attention so far."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"Couldn't you just act _casual_? Oh, and let me go, by the way, it would do wonders."

Malfoy looked stressed. "Like you said, I _can't_! Not until everything blows over for sure!" He smoothed his hair roughly. "I can do casual… let's try casual… and if you act up-"

"Right, you'll activate the hair-curse." Hermione snorted bitterly. "Speaking of which, there's a huge clump of hair in my face."

"Then move it."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Why?"

"Okay then…" Hermione took a deep breath and tossed her head. She could feel the curse altering her judgment slightly moments later. "Um… you'd better watch out."

"What are you talking about? Is the Ministry here?"

"No…" Half of her wanted to scream in horror, while the other half… "I just have this unnatural urge to… well… it's not _me_, as you well know!"

"The curse? It turns on if you just move your head?"

"It's just getting s-s-stronger…" She frowned. "The more it's in effect… I… I…"

Draco watched her talk, concerned about drawing unwanted notice. "Calm down, it's okay… you're still in control, right?"

"S-s-s-somewhat… I'm having the strangest thoughts!" She made a sound soft enough to classify as a whimper, but it seemed to imply that shrieks were on their way.

"Sssshhh!" He took desperate action and untied the shoelace that bound her wrists. It had been the best he could invent without using binding magic. "It's going to be worse for a bit, but maybe it will help in the long run."

"What are you going to d-do?"

Even as he was saying 'sorry' Draco didn't know why. He never felt the need to say sorry to anybody before. He pulled Hermione's hair back and tied it up with the shoelace to prevent any future mistakes. Predictably, the contact resulted in having the girl fling both of her freed arms around his neck, drawing the two close together. "Get off?" It came out a hopeful question rather than a demand.

"But," Curse-ridden Hermione responded. "I'm scared! I'm scared of the Ministry! Just… hold me."

Malfoy couldn't shake the impression that this was somehow a gross thing to do, but the reason wasn't prominent in his mind. Rather it was agreeing with the foe he was trying to silence: the Ministry _was_ a frightening thought. What _would_ happen to his family if the Ministry managed to charge him with something as serious as _charming_ a Muggle during a school field-trip? It didn't seem possible that such a crime would have just slipped under their radar. An appearance by no less than an auror seemed inevitable in the paranoid, escalating fantasies.

Lost in more pressing concerns, Draco instinctively hugged Hermione protectively, ignoring the comfort he felt in return.

Hermione: (aghast) No way…

Ron: I don't know whether I should be proud or if I should curse myself for doing that.

Hermione: Well… er… nice going. It would never _happen_, of course…

Ron: Better not…

Hermione: So… well… (swallows) Okay!

Ron: We're going to give Hermione a minute to lose her lunch. Hopefully we'll see you all sooner than next year. Thanks for reading.


End file.
